Analysis of a Budding Romance
by timeaftertime09
Summary: Betty's thoughts right after she leaves Daniel on the steps at Trafalgar Square.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a one-shot from Betty's POV, right after the finale. Enjoy! :)_

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As she walked along the streets of London, back to her new office, Betty couldn't stop herself from analyzing the previous moments. After blowing her off and refusing to speak to her . . . refusing to say goodbye, he was here. Daniel was here. He had quit his job, rented out his apartment, and he was here. Not in New York or LA . . . Milan or Paris . . . but here . . . in London . . . where she had taken the job that had ultimately ruined their friendship . . . or so she had thought until that day.

He wanted to "take her" to dinner. Not grab Chinese and bring it back to her flat to watch "Rush Hour" or "Wedding Crashers", but "take her" to dinner. As in call her later with details and pick her up at her door. Was Claire right? Was his less-than-supportive attitude about her new job not just about losing her as an employee and friend? When he said he couldn't live without her . . . did he mean it in another way? After he had so confidently approached her, for a split-second she had thought he might . . . until he suddenly started stumbling over his words and eventually offered her a promotion. She wiped the possibility out of her mind after that.

Did this unusual invitation imply an actual date? She continued to wonder as she sat at her desk and opened up her laptop. Were those shy, nervous glimpses he gave really meant for her? She'd seen those looks before – the vulnerable, insecure glances while he was on pins and needles waiting for a verdict from a girl he truly cared about, where the confident side of him went out the window . . . She had felt herself subconsciously doing the same, even flirting a little, but hoped he hadn't noticed . . . unless he actually _did_ see her that way, now . . . and even then she didn't know.

As she had hugged him on the steps she felt herself patting him on the back, afraid of assuming too much, trying to maintain the closeness of friends just in case. However, she noticed Daniel had held onto her a little tighter, allowed his hands to slip a little lower on her back. And when he briefly ran his fingers down her arm, grabbing her hand as they broke, she felt an unexpected spark. A rush she'd never predicted she'd feel for him. She'd never looked at him that way before. They were never like that with each other. Close, yes. Sometimes a little too close, she admitted.

Knowing exactly where the weird mole on his ass was, witnessing his copy room sex romp on tape, and buying him jock itch cream were just a few examples that proved to be a little too close for comfort. These were things friends – especially friends of the opposite sex - weren't supposed to know about each other.

She wondered if that wasn't part of the problem - they knew each other too well. But that could be a good thing. She could read his moods, could tell when he needed to be comforted or given a pep-talk, when he just needed time alone. He could do the same with her . . . was always first in line to stand up for her . . . She knew the good man he had grown to be . . . how hard he had struggled to get there. Thinking about it made her beam with pride.

She guessed she could envision herself with him, if the opportunity arose. After all, she loved him dearly as a friend and mostly respected him as a boss . . . not that that was an issue anymore . . . But maybe this was all irrelevant. Maybe Daniel was just apprehensive about her forgiving him. Was this dinner just a form of an apology because he knew a smile and an "I'm sorry" wouldn't cut it, or was it something more than that? Did she really want more, if he did? Was she willing to sacrifice their incredible friendship if it didn't work out? Her thoughts were interrupted when the receptionist buzzed her office.

"Sorry to disturb, but there's a Daniel Meade on the line - says he's a close friend and you asked him to ring you?" Melanie informed her.

"Thanks, Melanie. Put him through," Betty answered.

"He isn't per chance, _the_ Daniel Meade, is he? New York's most eligible bachelor, heir to the States' largest publishing company?" she eagerly inquired.

"Yes, Melanie, he is," Betty answered.

"Oooh . . . you're so lucky!" Melanie squealed.

Betty chuckled, amused that girls got so giddy at the mention of Daniel's name – even all the way in London. Maybe it was because she knew the real Daniel – not player-Daniel. Her stomach nervously flip-flopped as she picked up the phone, but it had nothing to do with his fame or fortune.

"Hey," she timidly greeted him.

"Hey," he casually replied.

"So I guess you're pretty important now?" he observed.

"Huh?" she wondered.

"I needed to hand over my life history before I could get through to you," he joked.

"Oh, sorry! That's Melanie - she's a big gossip like Amanda. Why didn't you call my cell?" she asked.

"I wasn't sure whether you'd switched companies or numbers or whatever, now that you moved here," he explained.

"Oh. Nope – same phone, same number as always," she assured him.

"Good. Now I know where I can always reach my favorite girl . . ." he boldly flirted . . . at least she thought he was flirting.

The pen she was absently holding flipped out of her fingers at the unexpected remark and she was rendered speechless. Sexy, playful tone - like when he briefly seemed to be contemplating challenging his father's reasons for hiring her . . . 'favorite girl'? Was he really going there?

". . . I – I mean my favorite girl _friend_ – m - my favorite _friend_," Daniel awkwardly struggled in a higher-pitched voice.

Betty fought off a giggle – was he seriously having trouble talking to her after all these years?

"So . . . did you need me for something or just wanna talk?" she tried to save him from drowning.

Daniel cleared his throat.

"Um . . . yeah. I wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight? Dinner?" he reminded her.

"Sure. What are you in the mood for?" she asked.

"Well, there's this one restaurant I heard about the last time I was here. It's supposed to have incredible food and beautiful views. It's always booked solid, but I managed to get us a table at 7:00PM, if that sounds okay?" he shyly asked.

She could feel the butterflies in her stomach again.

A five star restaurant, impossible to get into? He was either extremely sorry or was trying his best to impress her.

"Okay? Daniel, that sounds _amazing!_" she squealed in assurance.

"Great. So, pick you up at 6:30PM?" he confirmed.

"Perfect," she replied.

"Okay . . . well, I'll see you then . . ." he started to hang up.

"K – I'll text you my address . . ." she reminded him.

"Right. Can't forget that," he cleared his throat, embarrassed.

"See you tonight," Betty smiled and hung up.

_What was she going to wear . . .?_

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After much debate, she finally decided on her red halter dress with the slight cut-out in the front – showing a little cleavage, but not too much. She didn't want to seem like a hooker or lead him to believe she wanted to be more than friends if it was just an "I'm sorry" dinner. She completed her outfit with her black sling-back peep-toe Christian Leboutin stilettos and her shiny black Prada clutch. Both were courtesy of Mrs. Meade, who insisted a London editor needed to dress in style. As she finished applying her makeup and nervously adjusted her new glasses, she began to obsess again.

What if this was too much? It was Daniel . . . and dinner – not a wedding. If he showed up in jeans, she was going to die from embarrassment. Was the red too flashy? Maybe she should find the cover-up she had used for work. No – this wasn't work, this was dinner. She was entitled to show a little skin and not be judged for it. She'd been conservative all her life. It was time for a change . . . to let Daniel see she'd changed. She wasn't the innocent, naïve girl he'd called his assistant anymore.

Wait – why was she trying to prove anything to him? It's not like he'd remotely mentioned wanting to step into new territory. And even if he did, he knew her and she had nothing to hide – nothing to convince him of . . . right? She was a young, confident, successful . . .

She was startled out of her pep-talk by a knock at the door. That was him. _Oh god_ – that was him! Wait – why was she nervous again? It was _Daniel_. Lovable, funny, dorky, occasionally irritating, sweet, caring, Daniel. She exhaled a deep sigh, straightened her dress, and opened her door.

"Hi," she timidly smiled.

"Hi," Daniel returned the smile. "You look . . . Wow . . . You look . . . _great!_" he stood in front of her, stupefied.

"Thank you," she shyly looked up at him.

She'd definitely activated his drool mechanism – something she'd only accomplished once or twice before. It was strange because . . . well it was her, not a supermodel . . . But not a bad thing . . . not a bad thing at all . . .

"Do you wanna come in?" she offered after they both leisurely gazed at one another.

No jeans, nice Armani suit and Gucci tie . . . good. No room for embarrassment there . . . _Awww_ . . . he was even wearing that tie clip she bought him for Christmas after he had accidentally caught one of his designer ties in the shredder . . . And _damn_ . . . those eyes . . . that smile . . . that hair . . . she couldn't believe she was checking him out . . .

"Uh . . . maybe later. I'd love to see your new place, but we've gotta hurry if we want to make our reservations," he explained.

Betty nodded understandingly.

"Oh! Here, these are for you," he held out a bouquet of red Gerbera daisies.

"Mmm . . . thank you. That's so sweet . . ." she graciously smiled, accepting the flowers and briefly inhaling their scent. "I'll just go put these in some water and we can go," she told him.

So . . . no roses, but they were still red . . . Maybe they still meant the same thing, only he knew daisies were her favorite flower? Or maybe he didn't want to imply anything that a rose implied . . . _God!_ She needed to stop overanalyzing every little thing and just let things happen one way or the other.

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Dinner was . . . interesting to say the least. He opened doors and pulled out chairs, helped her with her coat . . . but that's where it ended. No other hints of what his intentions were, no blatant admissions . . . just normal discussion about her new job . . . his lack of one.

She caught him stealing glances at her and felt self-conscious the entire time - not at all like when they normally had meals together. But other than that, there was nothing to alleviate the limbo game in her mind.

She almost asked exactly how long he planned on staying, but didn't want to seem like she was tired of him already. And there was no way in hell she was going to flat out ask him how he felt about her – too weird . . . too awkward. He'd tell her, if he had something to tell her, when he was ready to tell her. Even as they stared out at the London skyline, she still couldn't figure out what he wanted.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she finally broke the silence.

"Just like you," Daniel replied, inching himself closer to her just as the waiter came back with the receipt.

Was he going to kiss her?

"I guess we should get going," he stated, rising out of his chair.

Betty nodded, a little disappointed.

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Back at her flat, they sat awkwardly on her new couch sipping coffee.

"Thanks for dinner. I had a really nice time," she thanked him.

"Good. I'm glad," he replied, then hesitantly looked at her, placing his mug on the coffee table. "Betty, there's something I need to tell you. I should've told you before, but I never managed to get up the courage to admit it . . ." he began, taking her hand in his.

Was this it - the big secret? Was the truth finally going to rear its ugly or possibly beautiful head?

"I didn't say goodbye to you because I couldn't," he lowered his head in shame. "Letting you go to another company in the city was bad enough, but you moving to another country . . . only seeing you maybe once or twice a year . . . I couldn't take it – I couldn't say goodbye . . . And I didn't come here just to apologize or to find a new job . . . I came here for you," Daniel nervously admitted.

Betty swallowed hard. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Did coming here for her translate into a romantic way or just he couldn't live without their friendship? She could feel her palms becoming sweaty and her heart began to race.

"Daniel . . ." she tried to get more clarity from his recent admissions.

"No. Don't. I gave you a lot to process and I'm not expecting you to say anything right away. In fact, I don't want you to, because it'd be a split-second reaction. We can talk tomorrow – lunch?" he requested.

"Sure," she agreed, as he got up and headed for her door.

They leaned against opposite sides of the frame, staring at each other, not wanting to leave the night unfinished and yet unsure of what else could be said at the time.

Then Daniel moved forward, gently caressing her jawline with his fingertips as he slowly tilted his face nearer, closing the space between them. Betty felt her knees weaken as she endured the anticipation of their first defining moment as a potential . . . couple? . . .

His lips practically landed on hers; she could feel the heat of his breath and closed her eyes, waiting for it to happen. But instead, he carefully planted a kiss on her forehead. It was tender and sweet . . . almost sensual – as if he were intentionally teasing her, making her see what she'd be missing without revealing too much at once.

He slid his forehead down to hers.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he roughly whispered before gradually pulling away, casually walking down the hallway and out of her building.

Betty just stood there, flummoxed. After never really seeing why women were so crazy about him, she finally got it. And what was more was that she knew the real Daniel, not just the playboy.

She wasn't sure what to feel with all that had happened that day – Daniel's sudden arrival, the dinner, his admission of coming to London for her, and it was now obvious that it wasn't just _for her _but also _to be with her._ It all felt strange and wildly intriguing. The thought of crossing that line with him continued to leave uncertainties in her mind.

However, Betty did know one thing for sure - having Daniel back in her life made her feel whole again and that was all that mattered – a new beginning for both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all so much for reading and for your wonderful responses! The back-patting thing during their hug always bothered me, too. Uncertainty was the only explanation I could think of for it, because it was obvious from Betty's flirting and facial expressions that she was beginning to look at Daniel as more than just a friend. So, back by popular demand, here's Part 2. I might add on to this at a later time (after I finish one of my other stories), but for now, this is the conclusion . . . Enjoy! :)_

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"Hey," Daniel got up from the secluded table he had saved for them at the café to greet her with a hug.

"Hey," Betty smiled, awkwardly returning the hug.

After an entire night and morning of contemplating her decision, she still wasn't a hundred percent sure it was the right thing.

"I ordered you a coffee," he commented, pulling out her chair for her.

"Thank you," she sat down, noticing the hopeful expression on his face.

This was going to be a lot harder than she thought. "So Daniel, I –" Betty nervously began.

"Wait. I know what you're going to say . . . you've got that look," he stopped her, disappointedly lowering his head.

It was amazing how well he knew her.

"But I just want to tell you that I didn't make the decision to come here lightly. I know I can be impulsive and not always think things through, but this is truly what I want – to start over . . . to be with you," he assured her.

She took a deep breath. She wanted to believe him, wanted to just throw her arms around him and say she wanted that too . . . but it wasn't that simple.

"I don't know . . . I don't think this is the right path for us . . ." she carefully told him.

"You're not attracted to me," he assumed.

"_No_ - I mean _yes_ – I mean . . ." she confusingly spouted out. This was going _really_ well . . .

". . . To be honest, until yesterday, I never actually thought about you that way. I guess I did get a little jealous of you and Trista . . . and I had a really good time with you at Hilda's wedding . . . I never put two and two together, though. But now, I do wonder what it could be like . . . you and me . . ." she reached for his hand and covered it with her own.

Thoughts of casually holding it as they walked along the streets, rode the train, or sat in the park ran through her head. But she couldn't allow her mind to wander, to want what she couldn't have – not without gambling away something so important, something she might never get back again.

". . . Only, I think it's too much to risk. I already lost you once just by deciding to move here. You have no idea what those few weeks did to me. What happens if it doesn't work out between us? Losing you for good . . . I couldn't take that . . ." she admitted.

She hoped he understood, because it was the most difficult conversation she'd ever had in her life. Letting Daniel down . . . it was heartbreaking. He was the most important person in her life. But she couldn't think of any other way around it. She couldn't forget all the factors at stake and just go for it – could she?

The waitress interrupted them, asking for their orders. Betty's stomach was in knots. She ordered a turkey sandwich, loaded cheese fries, and a large strawberry-banana milkshake to help calm her nerves.

"So you're saying you don't want to be with me because you don't trust whatever we have to last – you don't trust me?" Daniel started to back his chair away from the table.

"Daniel, that's not what I said . . ." she hadn't meant it that way.

Why was he twisting her words? Why was he so defensive all of a sudden? _He_ was the one who insisted on giving her time to think everything over.

Did he believe he'd show up, give her a few hours to mull it all over and then she'd just leap into his waiting arms and forget about anything logical? Now _she_ was the angry one. How dare he make her out to be the bad guy because she was being rational, not relying on other impulsive bodily organs to make this decision? She heaved a big sigh and moved to the chair beside the stubborn, silently sulking man.

"Of course I trust you, Daniel. But there's no guarantee our relationship will last. What happens then? You can't tell me you haven't thought about it," she reasoned with him.

He grumbled an inaudible answer before coherently speaking.

"Of course I thought about it!" he exclaimed, before the waitress came with their meals. "I guess I have more faith in our relationship than you do . . ." he crossed his arms.

"That's not fair! You're the best friend I've ever had. I'm scared of having it all disappear, that's all," Betty defended herself while they absently traded the cheese in their sandwiches. _God_ men were so pig-headed and vindictive when their egos were shot down!

"If you trust me so much and you wonder what it'd be like, then what's the problem? What's the worst that could happen?" Daniel frustratingly questioned as he habitually scooped half of Betty's fries onto his plate.

Betty took a bite of her sandwich and contemplated her words before speaking.

"Anything, okay? W-we could have no chemistry with each other . . . w-we could get sick of each other . . . w-we could end up hurting each other . . . do things we could never come back from . . ." she elaborated, dipping a fry into the ranch dressing.

Why did she have to spell it out for him?

"You know, if you don't want to be with me just say it. Don't give me B.S. excuses – I'm not an idiot!" he snapped.

"I never said you were," she argued.

What was his problem?

"You implied it!" he insisted.

"I did not!" she maintained, slamming her napkin down.

Was he five?

"I can't talk to you anymore – not like this - call me when you're ready to have an adult conversation and not some childish fight!" she shoved her chair back from the table and left before he had the chance to reel her back in.

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Back at her flat, Betty slammed her purse down and flopped on the couch. She couldn't believe what an ass Daniel was being. All she was trying to do was make him see beyond the surface. She thought he finally knew that a serious relationship wasn't all fun and games, that _their_ relationship might be especially tricky because of their history as friends.

Instead, it was all about a power-trip. He couldn't stand not getting his way about this. It's not like she wanted it to be like this, but it was. There was no way to avoid ruining their friendship unless they didn't explore the next level.

So what if she was being cautious – it was worth it, wasn't it? Even though she couldn't get the image of him staring at her through those gorgeous blue eyes out of her head . . . the feel of his muscular body against hers as his lips were mere inches from her lips . . . the way he so carefully teased her, kissing her forehead as if he were drinking her in, then whispering so close to her she could feel the heat of his breath. What she wouldn't have given to have had the courage to pull him into her, crash her mouth into his and explore the warm depths with her tongue . . .

Okay, she really needed to stop. What was wrong with her? Two days ago, she was fine. Daniel was Daniel, even if he was an ocean away and a complete jerk. But now every time she thought of him she had these carnal urges . . . she had to get over whatever this was. If there was any hope in saving their friendship, she couldn't think of him like that. What was it you were supposed to do to get over something? Picture whoever it was naked? _God _no! _Bad_ . . . _bad_ remedy in this instance . . . _Damn it! Now_ what was she supposed to do? The phone rang just as she was about to go crawl in a hole and drown in her misery.

"What?" Betty blindly snapped, assuming it was Daniel.

"Well that's a nice way to greet your only sister!" Hilda replied.

"Sorry, Hilda. Bad couple of days," Betty explained.

"Trouble with work already?" Hilda assumed.

"Nope. Personal stuff," she ambiguously answered, not really wanting to rehash the recent events.

"Oh my god! Did you already meet a guy? Spill it – _now!_" Hilda demanded.

"No, I didn't meet a guy – it's Daniel," Betty still didn't feel up to Hilda's eager gossip mood.

"Oh . . . has that jackass still not returned your calls? You know, Betty, I'm gonna go over to his apartment and let him have it! Some friend he is not supporting you, after all the crap you've done for him . . ." Hilda got defensive on her sister's behalf.

"You won't find him there," Betty told her.

"Oh, yeah. He's probably still hiding out in Tahiti or somewhere. Coward," Hilda remembered.

"Try London," Betty subtly told her.

"_Whaaaat?_ Chica, you've been holding out on me! What did he say? He better have apologized to you – like with a sports car or a trip to Cabo San Lucas," Hilda exclaimed.

"He did apologize . . . He took me to dinner last night . . . and then he said something that's had me all freaked out ever since . . ." Betty admitted.

Guess there was no point in keeping it bottled up. Hilda would drag it out of her at some point anyway . . .

"What? Does he have a twin? He didn't get a sex-change like Alexis, did he?" Hilda guessed.

"Nooo! _God_, Hilda - nothing like that! Daniel told me he quit his job at MODE and that he came to London to be with me," Betty awaited an overly exuberant reaction from her sister.

"You mean . . . _Ay!_ That's so great! You guys must be so happy – we've been pulling for you two to finally get together!" Hilda squealed.

"Hilda, just calm down. We're not . . . together. I don't think we will be – in that sense anyway . . ." Betty settled her sister for a more serious discussion.

"_Whaat?_ Are you loca en la cabeza?" Hilda flipped out. "Daniel finally pours his heart out to you and you're not gonna even try?" she continued to berate her little sister.

"I thought I could count on you, but you sound just like him – ready to jump in blindfolded," Betty complained.

"I don't get the problem – it's you and Daniel. You two are together all the time . . . always laughing, smiling, bickering, looking out for each other . . . when you're apart it's like there's a piece of the puzzle missing. Seems to me like you're already in a relationship and don't even realize it. Just add some smokin' hot sex and there ya go!" Hilda observed.

Betty sighed. Her sister really didn't grasp the complexity of the situation.

"Hilda, you don't get it," Betty told her.

"What's to get? Daniel's your best friend. He's rich, he's gorgeous . . . and a brilliant kisser – don't tell Bobby I said that . . . Betty?" Hilda coaxed Betty out of her thoughts of Daniel.

"Yeah?" Betty answered.

"You _have_ kissed him, right?" Hilda assumed.

For the first time, Betty actually felt envious of her sister's experience, when at the time she had just been annoyed and a little grossed out. The only time it had happened with _her_ didn't really count – Daniel was drugged and thought she was Molly. She'd fibbed and let him believe he got her eyebrow - it wasn't something to brag about . . .

"Not exactly . . ." she cringed, embarrassed.

"What does that mean? The man tells you he wants to be with you and then . . . nothing?" Hilda asked, perplexed.

"Not _nothing_ . . . there was _something_ . . . just not actual lip on lip contact . . . more like lip on forehead – but before you get all judgmental, it was definitely _not_ platonic," Betty elaborated, hoping Hilda wouldn't laugh.

"Okay . . . so how did any of this become a bad thing?" Hilda innocently wondered.

"I don't know . . . Daniel insisted on giving me time to think about it –" Betty began.

"And you thought too much," Hilda finished for her.

"What? _No._ I – I just realized that no matter how he feels about me or how I might be beginning to feel about him, we can't let it ruin our friendship . . . And anything beyond friendship might screw it up," she revealed.

"Are you serious? Are you freakin' serious?" Hilda laughed.

"Yes. Why?" Betty confirmed, confused.

"Because that's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard! You've always been conservative, but since when did you turn into an 80 year-old woman?" Hilda continued to ridicule her sister.

"Come on, Mamita – take some risks – live a little! You and Daniel deserve more! And honestly, the truth's already out. He likes you . . . how easy do you think it's gonna be to ignore that for the rest of his life? Do you really expect Daniel to just chuck his feelings for you in the shredder and never look back? Watch you go out with one wrong guy after another, knowing he's been standing right there all along? Being satisfied because he's the friend, the shoulder you cry on –" Hilda rambled on.

"Okay, okay – you made your point!" Betty stopped her from going any further.

Was Hilda right? Was she being too cautious? Maybe she had a point. Maybe it wasn't fair to force Daniel to bury his feelings for her. It wasn't as if she wasn't curious herself. And when Hilda put it like that, their friendship was inevitably on the line either way. Why shouldn't she at least try things with Daniel? At least there was a chance things would work out, right? She nervously exhaled. Except now she had to face him after she was such an insensitive bitch. He'd probably never forgive her. Why would he even want to be with her? She groaned.

"Betty? Are you okay?" Hilda asked, concerned. "Yes – no – I don't know . . ." she whined.

"Honey, everything will be fine. Just talk to Daniel – I'm sure he'll be so happy you want to see how things work out, he won't even care that you gave him that ridiculous crap about preserving your friendship," Hilda assured her.

"_Hilda!_ It's not ridiculous crap! Maybe I went a little overboard, but wanting to make sure I keep my best friend isn't stupid," Betty defended herself.

"True . . . but you wanna know something? You wanna know who my best friend is? His name is _Bobby_," Hilda pointedly told her sister.

"Yeah, I get it. You got lucky. I just hope Daniel and I are as lucky as you and Bobby," Betty said.

"You will be . . . because when you have as strong a friendship as you and Daniel have, love and the rest comes easy," Hilda promised.

"You'd better be right . . . Thanks for the talk. I'll call you later – but tell everyone I love and miss them!" Betty said before hanging up.

One problem solved . . . one to go . . . At least she hoped. Maybe she'd give them both a day to cool off . . . unless, he wouldn't leave would he? She knew they'd fought, but would he get so upset and feel so rejected that he'd disappear again without saying goodbye? She couldn't let that happen again. She had to fix things before it was too late. She grabbed her jacket and bag and whisked open the door to find Daniel standing in front of her in mid-knock.

"Daniel? What are you doing here?" Betty wondered, shocked that he'd want anything to do with her.

"I uh, I came to say I'm sorry . . . seems like I've been doing that a lot lately," he nervously chuckled as she let him in. "I shouldn't have acted like that. I gave you time to think it over and you were only saying how you felt. I guess I was just expecting a different reaction . . ." he admitted, sitting on the couch.

"No, Daniel - _I'm_ sorry. You came all this way and poured your heart out and all I could do was take that sweet, romantic gesture and turn it into some practical debate," Betty apologized, sitting beside him.

"I gained some perspective . . . and I want to see where this goes . . . if you still do," she looked up at him and then down at the floor, apprehensively awaiting his answer.

"Of course I do," Daniel assured her, leaning forward to hug her.

Betty finally relaxed in his arms, relieved to have made up. Fighting with Daniel was always unbearable. But she did have one uneasy fear . . .

"Can you do me a favor?" she slightly pulled away from his embrace.

"Sure. What?" he curiously asked.

"I know it's not your usual M.O., but can we take things one step at a time?" she winced, anticipating a not-so willing reaction.

"Hey, we can go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. As long I'm with you, nothing else matters," he reassured her.

"Thank you . . . for understanding," she timidly smiled, then hesitantly reached up and briefly kissed his forehead, then his cheek, caressing his jawline before slowly pressing her lips to his.

Daniel reciprocated, gently nipping at her top lip until Betty couldn't take it anymore.

Her hands gravitated to the back of his head, sinking her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, as she slid her tongue into his mouth. Why had they never done this before? She could feel her pulse race as his hands grazed her lower back and he lightly flicked her earlobe. Betty felt her breath catch and pulled back.

"What? Is something wrong? That wasn't too weird for you, was it?" Daniel asked, noticing the stunned expression on her face.

"No . . ." she shook her head.

And it wasn't - which was kind of shocking. Despite all of the intrigue and anticipation, in the back of her mind Betty had to wonder whether being that intimate with Daniel wouldn't be awkward at first - maybe too awkward to overcome.

Her chemistry fear was legit, considering their interaction had been nothing but platonic up until this point. But this romantic pull, this sudden spark between them felt strangely natural, like it was meant to happen. Only what if Daniel was asking her that question because _he_ felt it was awkward?

"Was it weird for _you_?" she worriedly asked.

"No," he assured her as he brushed a lock of hair out her face. "It felt . . . right," he admitted.

Betty let out a sigh of relief and nodded in agreement.

". . . That was . . . _wow!_" she breathlessly exclaimed.

"Yeah . . ." he grinned sheepishly. "But, uh, I thought you wanted to go slow?" he wondered, tracing a line down the bridge of her nose and over her lips with his finger.

"I did - I _do_ - it's just I've wanted to try that since last night . . ." she shyly confessed.

Daniel chuckled.

"Well a little experimentation never hurt . . . and I don't think we have to worry about any chemistry issues," he teased.

"I guess not," she giggled.

"So, are you up for a movie or do you wanna do more of this . . .?" Daniel seductively kissed her lips again, attempting to feel out her mood.

Betty let out a faint moan as she reluctantly broke away.

". . . I think a movie's the safer route . . . I still don't want to rush anything," she answered, giving him a knowing look and popping up from the couch to put a DVD in.

She knew she wouldn't be able to control herself if they continued their 'experimental project'. The newness of their relationship was making her unable to think clearly . . . making her curious to know and try everything she already hadn't with Daniel Meade. But baby steps – they had all the time in the world now to explore the unknown. Back to the movie . . .

"Is 'Get Smart' okay?" she asked.

"Mmmhmm . . . I'm in the mood for a comedy," he agreed.

She loaded it in the player and sat back down beside him. Daniel self-consciously scooted over, creating more space between them. Betty slid back over, purposefully snuggling as close to him as she could, placing Daniel's arm around her shoulder and resting her head against his chest. He looked down at her skeptically.

"I said slow – but not _that_ slow," she coyly smiled up at him.

Daniel smiled back and affectionately kissed her temple before they both focused on the movie.

Hilda was right – he was kind, caring, gorgeous, _and_ an incredible kisser. What was more was that she already felt more comfortable with him than with any other man, _because_ of their history. Maybe this was a good thing, after all . . .


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks, everyone! I know I said I was done updating this until I finished one of my other stories, but I got stuck on them and was inspired on this one. So here's the next installment - enjoy! :)_

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Betty looked up from her laptop when she heard a knock on her office door.

"Daniel!" she said, surprised.

They hadn't made any plans – had they? She couldn't even remember with all the work she had to get done.

"Hey, beautiful - I charmed Melanie into letting me in," Daniel greeted her.

"I can tell," she mused, before saving her work.

"Still haven't found an assistant, I take it?" he commented, noticing the stack of papers swarming her desk and the blinking lights on her office phone.

Betty shook her head.

"I was a little . . . distracted the past few days – didn't get an ad out yet. But the offer's still open, if you want?" she flirted.

Distracted was an understatement – at least it turned out to be a pleasant one, though.

"Something tells me we'd never get anything productive done . . ." he gave her a sexy stare.

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. He was probably right – maybe later on they could work together again, but right now she couldn't concentrate on anything but him while he was in a room with her. She nervously cleared her throat.

"So. What did I do to get a surprise visit from you?" she asked.

"I just thought you might have time for a break – get a coffee or some ice cream – I saw this gelato place off of Adelaide?" he suggested.

Betty hesitated. She didn't want to blow him off, make him think she wasn't interested anymore. But then again, her desk was like an avalanche waiting to happen.

"Ummm . . . can you wait about twenty minutes, let me finish writing this draft?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, sitting down in front of her desk, pulling out his IPhone.

After about ten, Daniel got restless and started intently staring at Betty working.

She felt his gaze upon her and became apprehensive. She couldn't focus when his eyes were fixated on her like that . . . like she was the sexiest, most fascinating thing in the world.

"Daniel . . ." she pleaded with her eyes for him to stop.

"What?" he asked, giving her that irresistible boyish grin that always caused her to forget why she was irritated with him.

"Nothing – let's just go. I'll finish this later," she sighed, closing her laptop and standing up.

"I can leave, if you want?" he offered, trying to hide offense.

"No – stay. It's just been a long day and it's not even over yet," she explained, holding a hand to his chest to stop him.

"Been there," he sympathetically replied, rubbing her arms like he always did when he was worried about her.

She never really thought about it before, but he had always found some sort of gesture or touch – even a brief look to let her know he cared.

"But you really look good in that chair. I know you'll do great – just find a way to delegate. You'll feel a lot less stressed once you let people help you out with the work load. You can't run a magazine by yourself," he advised her as they walked out of her office.

"I know," she replied, hating to admit it.

She had this thing about doing everything herself. A need to control and organize things – make certain they were perfect. It's why she knew it would be really hard to find an assistant who was up to her standards. Why she could never really find Daniel a good enough replacement – that and she just hated leaving him, even when she was still technically working for him – just not as closely . . .

"So how's your job hunt coming?" she inquired.

"I picked up some papers and started leafing through them, searched the internet for ideas. I'm just not sure of what I want to do – only that I want it to be meaningful, make a difference – while still staying within the degree I have," he told her.

"If you're serious about it, Lindsay has been talking about putting together a foundation for aspiring editors and media designers – sort of an internship program for college kids. It would give them a taste of what the mag industry is like and all the different areas that are involved," she suggested. "It probably wouldn't pay as much as your old job and I can't guarantee he'd hire you, given you're still the heir to MEADE, but . . ." she warned.

"No – I get it. I'll understand if he doesn't want to. But the position sounds perfect, actually - especially if I could get each of your staff members to donate a week of their time to give the kids a hands-on experience in all the areas," Daniel enthusiastically exclaimed, his mind reeling with ideas.

Betty beamed with pride. He genuinely seemed eager to help others succeed in the business.

"What?" he wondered, noticing her expression.

"It's good to see you so excited about something again. After I told you I was leaving . . . it seemed the light went out of your eyes . . . for the magazine . . . for everything . . ." she confessed, timidly taking his hand as they walked along the streets of London.

"I never really wanted that job, I didn't have a clue what I was doing and so many others like Wilhelmina had struggled to gain the experience for it - truly earned the right to have that position. But my father threw me in it anyway, to keep me out of trouble – to make sure I did something with my life. You inspired me. You helped me work for it - be good at it. You helped me enjoy it . . . Once I found out you were leaving, nothing seemed to matter anymore . . ." he revealed.

"Oh, Daniel . . ." his words pulled at her heart.

"I knew I wanted to find something that wasn't just handed to me – something that I was truly qualified for. I wanted to be able to make a difference in other peoples' lives, like you did in mine," he explained.

"You have no idea how much that means to me – how proud I am of you," she hugged him, tears welling up in her eyes.

Daniel humbly smiled.

"Come on. Let's get that ice cream and get you back to work," he took her hand again as they broke from their embrace.

"Okay. And I'll see if I can get you an appointment with Lindsay, this week," she replied.

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"Now I know why you dragged me out of work – you needed your daily cookie dough fix," she teased as they sat on the steps of the square.

"What? I do not –" he protested.

"Give it up, Daniel. I know your afternoon meetings entailed a pit-stop at Ben & Jerry's. Why do you think Marc started making you lose the -" she busted him.

He shoved a spoonful in her mouth.

"Mmmm - town car," she finished. "It _is_ good . . ." she admitted.

"More?" he asked.

She nodded and closed her eyes as he carefully offered her another bite . . . It somehow tasted even better when he fed it to her. She savored it, letting the gelato melt on her tongue.

"Here," she held the spoon to his mouth.

"Mmmm – see you can't blame me," he pointed out.

"You're right – it's a great stress-reliever," she agreed, feeding him another bite. "Oops. Sorry," she giggled as some of it dripped down his chin.

She quickly reached for a napkin and gently wiped it off.

"Gone?" he asked.

She slowly checked over his chin and kissed his sweet-tasting lips.

". . . Gone," she confirmed.

"Now _that_ is an even better stress-reliever . . ." he remarked.

"Definitely," she agreed as they collided again in a deeper, longer kiss.

She could get lost in the moment forever, but realized it was a work day. She reluctantly parted her lips from his.

"I need to get back . . ." she reminded him.

"Right. Let's go," Daniel stood up and held out his hand.

"Thank you for this – it was a nice escape," she said as she took his hand.

She loved the way it felt in hers. She felt special; cared for . . . happier knowing he was there, that he was hers in a way.

"Anything to make you smile," he modestly replied as they made their way back to her building.

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Their fingers were pressed together as they quietly laid facing each other on the couch listening to the 'One Republic'-themed playlist on his IPod.

"You're hands are so tiny," Daniel contentedly observed.

"Well at least they aren't Godzilla hands," Betty teased, noticing his were almost twice as big as hers were.

"Hey, I have perfectly normal man hands," he defended himself. "And yours . . . are adorable," he said, briefly sucking on her finger before slowly sliding his tongue inside her mouth, something he just then discovered caused her to giggle. "What?" he innocently asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing. It's just I was thinking about how we were four years ago and I know we would never have been caught dead doing this – with each other," she explained with a sly grin. Daniel chuckled.

"Probably not . . ." he admitted, continuing to study her delicate fingers. "I just wonder how you manage to find rings that fit you . . ." he spoke before realizing what she thought he might be implying.

"Y-You're not thinking about -?" Betty questioned curiously, tensing up, clearly not prepared.

"_No_ – not unless you are – I-I mean no – that's _waaay_ in the future – if we're ever there," Daniel immediately back-pedaled.

She let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Good. I'm just getting used to the idea of us being . . . well an 'us' . . . or whatever we are right now . . ." she admitted, but sensed a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "I'm really glad we got here, though. This is much better than getting your morning coffee and bagel or scheduling your meetings," she grinned as she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down to her again.

"Definitely . . ." he grinned, crashing his lips into hers.

"It's also better than seeing you get hurt by all those guys . . . not being able to do anything about it," he added.

It was Betty's turn to be puzzled. She repositioned herself on top of him.

"When was that? If I remember correctly, you were adamantly opposed to my relationship with Henry, practically forbidding me to see him. And you fired Gio just because I was mad at him. Let's see . . . then you punched Matt . . . Oh – and you caused Henry to lose his job . . . _Yeah_ . . . that was really staying out of it," she sarcastically laughed.

"Okay, so maybe I was a little overprotective . . ." he sheepishly smiled.

Betty gave him a skeptical look.

"Alright – _a lot_ overprotective," he confessed. "You were the last person I ever wanted to see cry, that's all," he revealed.

"You were so sweet . . . you still are," she smiled adoringly at him as she stroked his jawline, then studied the rest of his face, tracing the lines with her fingertips.

She'd never really paid much attention to his facial features until recently. _Damn_ – he was one gorgeous man. Her thumb lightly ran over the space above his upper lip.

"You've got a little stubble," she timidly pointed out before kissing it.

"I must've missed a spot, trying to get over here so early on a Sunday morning," he defended himself, a twinkle in his eye.

"Sorry - I couldn't help it . . . I-I missed you," Betty hesitantly admitted.

"Really?" he playfully raised an eyebrow.

Being so vulnerable with Daniel was still new to her. She didn't want him to get any ideas of getting too serious, but on the other hand she honestly couldn't get enough of him like this.

They sent each other texts and IMs all week, he came by work again for lunch on Wednesday, he met with Lindsay about the job on Friday and they celebrated afterward, and they spent the entire Saturday exploring the city. She thought that would have been enough, but she found herself calling him that morning, when she couldn't sleep.

Was she too needy, wanting to spend all the free time she had with him? Maybe not . . . they did spend most of every day together in New York and a lot of it wasn't completely work-related. So it was only natural for her to want to fall back into that routine again, right?

Plus, there was something so disarming about the way he looked at her now . . . the way they could just be together and not say a word – it was the same as they were before only different . . . she didn't know exactly how to describe it . . . but it was good.

"Yes - really. But don't get so full of yourself – I'm only using you to get a free breakfast," she teased, tweaking his nose then resting her forearms on his chest.

"Right. And I'm only using you to get a change in scenery," he mocked, folding his hands behind his head. "Although I gotta admit it's a pretty great view . . ." he wickedly grinned staring at her revealing cleavage.

Betty turned beet red.

"_Daniel!_ Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she adjusted her shirt and lightly smacked him.

"I don't know . . . I was kinda enjoying it . . ." he satisfyingly smirked.

"You're horrible!" she mocked irritation.

"Yeah, but we both knew that . . ." he sheepishly smiled.

"True," she agreed. "You were going to let me lay there all day with my boobs hanging out, weren't you?" she accused.

"I don't know . . . maybe . . ." he mischievously replied.

"For that, I think I deserve breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner . . ." she jabbed him.

"Ow!" he protested. "How about I throw in dessert, too . . .?" he suggested, seductively teasing her lips.

"Sounds good – as long as it's a _real_ dessert - as in chocolate?" she bargained.

"There can be chocolate . . ." he cryptically answered.

"Are you seriously gonna go there?" she smirked.

"Well, I thought it was worth a shot . . ." he sheepishly smiled.

"Nice try. Come on, I'm starving!" she told him, getting off of him and pulling him up from the couch.

"So is that a 'yes'?" he hopefully inquired.

"That's a 'don't press your luck'. I think you've seen a little too much already," she gave him a knowing look before turning off the stereo.

"Really? Because I don't think I've seen enough . . ." he whispered in her ear from behind as his arms enveloped her waist and he kissed her neck.

Betty couldn't help but moan. Her defenses weakened with the simplicity of his touch. _Stop it!_ She knew he was the King of Seduction just by observing the first few weeks she worked for him. She gained her composure and broke away, picking up her bag and opening the door.

"Out!" she feigned annoyance but couldn't hide her smile as she playfully shoved him out the door, locking it behind them.

Daniel turned and extended his hand as a peace-offering. Betty hesitantly accepted it, timidly smiling up at him.

"You know I'd never push you into anything if you weren't ready for it? I was just flirting with you," he assured her.

She nodded, looking down at their joined hands then back up at him.

"Flirting's good . . . I like flirting," she grinned, leaning her head on his shoulder.

She never doubted him. He sensed when she was scared and didn't rush her. Occasionally he tried to test her, see how far he could get - but he backed off when she said 'no'. He had been so patient with her, allowing her to take her time to catch up with him.

Somehow that made it even easier to fall for him, the fact that he respected her so much that he was willing to wait for her. That he truly wanted it to work out for them as much as she did and wasn't in it for a fling.

Deep down, she had known that from the beginning. Why else would he have picked where she was to start over when he could have chosen anywhere else in the world? In retrospect, his motives were obvious. She had just been afraid to believe they were true.


	4. Chapter 4

_Here's the next installment. Seems like I've had more inspiration for this fic lately than my others, but I'm still working on them as well. Anyway, here's more of Betty overthinking her way through her and Daniel's new relationship. Enjoy! :)_

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"_Heey,_ Betty! How's my Chunky Chica?" Amanda greeted her.

"Amanda! I haven't heard from you in a couple of weeks, how are things going with your styling business – are they picking up?" Betty asked as she flipped through the channels on the TV.

"Is Lady Gaga a natural platinum blonde? _I don't get it . . . _You'd think people would be lining up around the corner to be dressed by_ this_. I'm Amanda freakin' Tanen Somers!" she scoffed.

"_Oh,_ _Amanda_ . . . just be patient. You'll get your big break. Look how long it took Christina before she made it huge as a designer. So do you have any clients now?" Betty tried to give her friend some encouragement.

"Two – and one's my bio dad. I had to come crawling back to MODE. Marc took pity on me and made me his assistant. But he swore on his lucky Prada belt he'd have me working in the Closet in no time. Apparently Wilhelmina despises new girl Hillary and makes her bawl like every two seconds. She'll be patching holes at some no-name sewing shop in Jersey before next week's out," Amanda confidently stated.

"Well that's . . . promising," Betty delicately spoke.

She hated to wish Wilhelmina's wrath on anyone or cost anyone their job. But on the other hand, she did feel sorry for Amanda.

"So what's going on in Fergieland?" Amanda wondered.

"Amanda, you realize you're referring to Sarah Ferguson the Duchess of York, not Stacy Ferguson the American singer, right?" Betty stifled a laugh.

"_Whatever._ So how are you and the Publishing Prince? Lots of hot, kinky sex? Any major bling on your finger?" she inquired.

"What?_ No!_" Betty exclaimed.

"You mean you guys haven't done it yet? And he hasn't asked to you to marry him? Wow! You'd better not be stringing him along, Betty. You know Daniel's been in love with you for _at least_ two months and I have this wicked vibe that it's been longer than that, since he's always had that 'look' when you're around," Amanda warned her.

Daniel? In love with her? For that long?

"_What? _No he isn't. Where did you get that idea? Daniel and I are just . . . feeling our way through this. Yeah, he's a little ahead of me, but he's not in love with me," Betty denied, oblivious.

"He didn't tell you? And _hello_ . . . he followed you. He quit his job and moved to London. No guy does that for a fun-buddy. And didn't you read his letter in the latest issue?" Amanda assumed she had.

"Fun-buddy? What letter?" Betty curiously asked.

"I've gotta go, but I'll scan and email it to you AWOL," Amanda sighed.

"You mean ASAP?" Betty corrected her.

"Yeah, whatever. Cheerios!" Amanda told her.

Betty snickered.

"Thanks, Amanda! Bye!" Betty hung up and rushed to boot up her laptop.

What if he _was_ in love with her? Was _she_ in love with _him_? She enjoyed spending time with him . . . she missed him when he was gone . . . thought about him constantly . . . her heart raced and she got butterflies in her stomach every time he entered the room . . . he was insanely hot and an amazing kisser . . . she couldn't imagine him not being in her life and would and had done anything for him . . . _Oh god!_ She _was_ in love with him.

But what if Amanda was just being Amanda? What if whatever that letter said meant nothing? How was she going to face him not knowing? Forget it. She'd just have to find a way to tell him and hope for the best.

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"What are you wearing?" Daniel greeted Betty over the phone, about an hour later.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she flirted back, setting her alarm clock as she lay in bed.

"Well, I miss you . . . and I just figured I deserve some sort of mental image considering we can't have a sleepover tonight," he bargained.

"Daniel it's been two hours since you saw me and it's not my fault you forgot your notes for your interview questions at home," she pointed out, taking off her glasses.

"Hey, it was a long day and it's hard to remember where I left things when I don't know where I'm staying most nights," he defended himself, while playing solitaire on his IPad. "But I think there's a solution to that . . . it's a little thing called moving in together," he hinted.

He had been hinting at that for a week. Every time she found herself dodging the question. They hadn't even slept together yet and she didn't know whether his proposition was out of convenience or his feelings for her; wasn't moving in together a little premature, considering? Not that she hadn't seriously been toying with the idea of the former happening very soon, but she'd rather wait on the merge just to play it safe . . .

"So . . . my blue and yellow rubber ducky PJs and my pink bunny slippers . . ." she revealed as a diversion.

"Sexy . . ." he flirted.

"Stop it . . ." she protested.

He was such a liar sometimes.

"No, I'm serious. Duck pajamas . . . bunny slippers . . . you must look so cute," he told her.

"Speaking of cute, what are _you_ wearing?" she curiously asked.

"My boxers," he replied.

"See, now _that_ is sexy . . ." she flirted.

Daniel in nothing but boxers . . . _Why_ did he have to forget his notes? Now _she_ was being punished . . .

"Really? You know you didn't seem to think so a few months ago . . ." he teased.

"You were standing outside my apartment after having slept with Amanda – _eww!_ Not that I don't like Amanda - I do - but you two . . . together . . . _again?_ A-And you guys didn't even tell me - how was I supposed to react?" she argued.

"You were jealous . . ." he grinned.

She could hear his satisfied smirk through the phone.

"I was not! I was just grossed out and trying not to think about you two . . . _eww!_" she corrected him.

"Okay . . . believe what you want . . ." he dubiously answered.

Had she been jealous? Noo . . . shocked, yes. Disgusted, yes. Annoyed and a little betrayed, yes. But jealous? Only that they didn't care enough to warn her, but probably everyone else at MODE knew – well, _at least_ the security guard . . .

"So . . . what's your schedule like tomorrow?" she inquired.

"I've got interviews with potential candidates all day, so I won't have time for lunch," he regretfully told her.

"How about dinner?" she proposed. "I kinda have something I need to tell you," she vaguely explained as she turned off the light.

"So this thing . . . it's bad, isn't it?" Daniel asked as he rolled on his side, his phone sandwiched between his ear and the pillow on his bed.

"What makes you think that?" Betty wondered, pulling the sheets on her bed closer to her body, settling in.

_God_, he was always such a pessimist. But . . . what the hell? She'd use it as an opportunity to have a little fun . . . make him squirm a little.

"I just need you to come by tomorrow night . . . and keep an open mind, okay?" she cryptically answered.

"But can't you at least –?" he started to beg.

"_Aah!_ Good night, Daniel," she insisted.

"Good night, Betty," he sighed and reluctantly hung up.

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Betty frantically ran into the grocery store – she knew she should have gone during lunch – now she'd only have two and a half hours to cook the meal _and_ get ready before Daniel showed up.

"Ow! Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to –" Betty apologized, then realized who she had run into.

_Crap!_ Out of all the markets in London . . .

"Daniel! What are you doing here?" she asked, quickly hiding her list behind her back.

"I was just picking up some wine for tonight – I wasn't sure what we were doing so . . ." he explained, holding up the bottle.

Betty nodded, understandingly.

"What are you doing here?" he wondered.

"Oh, getting some milk, bagels - you know stuff like that. Gotta have something in the fridge," she quickly covered. He gave her a dubious look as she nervously shoved the paper in her back pocket.

"K, well I guess I'll see you later then," he smiled, kissing her cheek before heading for the checkout.

That was close – too close. What if he had caught her getting –? Nope. That wouldn't have happened. If he had them, he had them. If not, it was obviously not the right time. Back to the list. Regardless of what occurred, she was going to make sure he would love the dinner.

Betty wasn't a good cook, but she was determined to at least try. Regardless of how he felt about her, Daniel had made a huge sacrifice coming here and she wanted to show him how much it meant to her. She had the recipe from Claire and was preparing this time – no weird substitutions, like her other cooking experiments.

Okay . . . bagels, milk, spaghetti, tomato puree and paste, onions, garlic, salt, pepper, ground beef, Italian breadcrumbs, egg substitute (so she'd have no excuse for leaving egg shells in something), canola oil, frozen garlic bread (she wasn't Martha Stewart), parmesean cheese . . . Yep. That was everything.

And yet she found herself steering to the pharmaceutical section, making sure no one saw her as she apprehensively dropped the first box she noticed into her cart before racing to the nearest self-checkout lane.

She felt bold . . . and dirty . . . and wasn't it the guy's responsibility? Why was she being such a girl scout? Okay, there was _nothing_ girl scout-related about this subject. But didn't she have any self-control? Had she already run out of it? Become so pathetic and horny that tonight _had_ to be the night? Wait – she was perfectly entitled to want to fulfill her desires towards him.

After all, it had been a month – _four years _and a month to be specific. Given that, she didn't think they were rushing anything. They weren't strangers by any means and she had made an effort to take it slow with him – as slow as anyone could go with someone they've known for that long. She absently scanned all the items and paid.

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As soon as she got home, she immediately threw the box in the top drawer of her nightstand and began working on the meal. Fortunately, Papi had given her a new set of pots and pans and a blender as parting gifts, insisting she wouldn't have anything to eat over here if she didn't learn how to cook for herself.

She started with the meatballs first, mixing the egg and breadcrumbs in with meat and forming Ping-Pong-sized balls, like the recipe called for. She placed them in the skillet, which she had added canola oil to, and let them cook on one side while she prepared the sauce. She peeled the onion and garlic and step-by-step ran all the ingredients through the blender.

This wasn't so bad after all – just following directions – what could go wrong? She spoke too soon, as she realized the meatballs needed to be turned over before they burned. Fortunately, she got to them in time, but it was too close for comfort.

Okay, back to the sauce. She poured it into a large pot and brought it to a boil, stirring occasionally afterwards, then checked on the meatballs once again, beginning to get a little OCD about them. She split one open to see if they were done then drained the grease and put them in the sauce, lowering the heat to a simmer and decided it was time to get ready. She could put the pasta on and bake the bread when he got there if she didn't have time before.

She rushed to shower and dry her hair before putting on a lacey pair of black underwear and bra that actually matched. Since being single, she usually wore whatever was clean and didn't care, but tonight was different – at least she was hoping.

She removed the plum-colored short strapless dress from its hanger. It was inspired by a pair of Manolo Blahniks that Marc had sent her from Swag Day, claiming they were too hideous to look at anymore. She knew it was his way of saying he missed her, though, because they were gorgeous and she definitely wasn't style-impaired anymore.

She nervously applied her make-up and checked her watch. Fifteen more minutes – enough time to stir the sauce and start the water for the spaghetti. Things were good – the food was almost done and actually tasted decent from what she could tell, she was dressed and ready, and she had her IPod playing. So why the hell was she so freaked out? She heard a knock at the door. _Right – that._ She needed to just take a deep breath and act natural.

"Hey, handsome," she greeted him with a smile. He looked sexier than normal – new haircut – or maybe just the shirt and tie . . .?

"Hey," Daniel greeted her with a brief kiss on the lips. "You look incredible! Are we going somewhere? I wasn't sure, but I brought a suit jacket just in case," he wondered as he entered her apartment and handed her the wine bottle.

She stayed silent, allowing him to figure it out on his own.

"Wow! Something smells _really_ good – did you cook dinner? Wait – should I be afraid?" he teased, knowing her culinary reputation all too well.

"I don't know . . . if it tastes like it smells, I'd say you're safe," she smiled, adjusting his deep red Prada tie and patting his chest, allowing her hands to linger as she stared up into his piercing blue eyes.

"Umm . . . Betty – something's boiling . . ." Daniel noticed.

"Oh my god!" she rushed over to turn off the water before it boiled over and put the pasta in, covering it with the lid.

She stirred the sauce again and quickly put the bread in the oven. Okay - nine minutes at 400 degrees – better set the timer.

"Sorry about that," she apologized.

"So is that what I think it is?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know – what do you think it is?" she ambiguously replied.

"From what I can tell, it looks and smells like my grandma's spaghetti and meatballs," his face began to light up like a little kid.

She nodded proudly.

"How did you know?" he wondered, amazed.

"Well, I remembered your mom had mentioned at one point it was your favorite, even though your cover-favorite has always been anything Chinese or sushi. I wanted to make you some comfort food from home, since you gave up everything and moved here. Soo . . . I called her and asked if she had a recipe, and she emailed it to me," Betty humbly explained. "I can't guarantee it's any good, but . . ." she shyly added.

Daniel gave her a gracious look that made her heart melt.

"Thank you," he hugged her tight.

Betty smiled and started setting her small kitchen table.

"However it turns out, I love you for trying – I-I mean I - forget it. I've known this for almost two months and was waiting for the right time to say it. I guess now is as good a time as any, because I can't do this anymore . . . I love you, Betty – I'm in love with you," Daniel confessed.

Betty froze. It was a miracle she managed not to drop the wine glass in her hand. He didn't say what she thought he said, did he? She'd heard it from Amanda, read the cryptic letter in the magazine, but hearing it from his own mouth made it all the more true.

"I guess a part of me always has – it just took me four years to define it," he admitted.

Was Daniel really in love with her – as in head over heels, crazy in love with her?

"Please . . . don't freak out. I'm not expecting you to feel the same and I tried to hide it because I didn't want to scare you away . . . I just can't hold it in any longer," Daniel defended himself. "Will you just say something . . . please?" he desperately pleaded with her.

Betty still couldn't speak. She wanted to – she wanted to say so many things – all the things she was feeling at that moment. But nothing would come out. So she did the only thing she could.

She put down the glass and slowly approached him. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she kissed him with everything she had in her, allowing all her emotions to show through. When they finally broke, she rested her forehead on his and caught her breath before finally speaking.

"I love you, too," she earnestly revealed.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for reading and for all the great responses - they're really appreciated! This next installment includes Betty & Daniel's first time together. I upped the ratings for this chapter just in case. (It's not extremely graphic or anything, but I wanted to be safe rather than sorry.) Enjoy! :)_

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"That was one of the best meals I've ever had," Daniel complimented Betty's cooking as they danced in her living room to Adele's 'Make You Feel My Love'.

"You're just saying that to be nice," she lowered her head in embarrassment.

"No – I'm serious. That was amazing – I didn't know you could cook like that," he insisted.

"Neither did I," she admitted. "I guess having all the right ingredients and following the recipe helps," she guiltily laughed.

"Maybe I should try it sometime?" he joked.

"Yeah, I could give you a few lessons," she giggled and rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed to the music.

With his arms encased around her lower back and the feel of his strong chest against her she felt so safe . . . like nothing could touch her. And knowing he loved her just made their union even more perfect. After a while, she noticed he hadn't really been moving anymore – just standing still as he held her close. She looked up and realized he was deeply lost in thought.

"What are you thinking?" she wondered.

"Just that the last time we danced like this was at your sister's wedding," he smiled nostalgically.

"Yeah, we danced so much I thought my feet were going to fall off," she remembered.

"Speaking of which . . . I've got to sit down," she took his hand and led him to the couch.

"Sore?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Here . . ." he pulled her feet up on his lap and took off her heels, then began to massage the balls of her feet.

"Mmmm . . ." she groaned. "You did the same thing at the reception – while we were waiting for Papi to wrap everything up . . . I couldn't believe you offered – it wasn't like I was your girlfriend," she fondly recalled.

"Yeah, well . . . you were still technically my date. And I tried to be a gentleman. After all, I was the one who kept you on the dance floor the entire night, so it was the least I could do," he humbly replied.

"You were always so good to me," she smiled lovingly at him.

"So what was this thing you needed to tell me?" he nervously asked.

Betty sat up and repositioned herself next to him.

"It's nothing, now. I just wanted to surprise you with dinner . . . and the fact that I loved you," she told him.

"I kinda screwed the 'I love you' thing up, didn't I?" he cringed.

"Don't worry about it," `she insisted, softly planting her lips on his. "The important thing is we're both on the same page . . . no more catching up . . ." she replied in between shorter, seductive kisses over his cheek and neck. Her mouth enveloped his earlobe as she loosened and removed his tie.

She'd never been this bold before, but something about being with Daniel made her that way. She didn't feel awkward or ridiculous. He made her feel comfortable, able to express herself freely. And at that moment she wanted to show him how much she loved him, to be able to be as close to him as humanly possible.

She set her glasses on the coffee table and carefully straddled him, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his muscular chest. She ran her hands over it, kissing her way down to his belt, unbuckling it, her hands descending lower.

"Betty . . . mmmm . . . Betty, are you sure?" Daniel roughly asked.

"Positive," she whispered in his ear.

Daniel brought his face to hers, sliding his tongue in the warmth of her mouth. His hand inched up her skirt while his lips made their way down to her breasts, causing her to gasp with unexpected pleasure. "

Good?" he checked to make sure.

"Really good," she caught her breath.

"Bed?" he breathlessly suggested.

"Bed," she nodded in agreement, equally ragged.

She shakily climbed off of him, pulling him up. Her hands gravitated to his ass as she slid off his pants and toyed with the band of his black boxer briefs.

He kissed her fully on the mouth once more, before shedding the rest of his clothes and hers as they stumbled into the bedroom and onto the bed.

"You're so beautiful . . ." he stared at her in awe. "Your eyes . . . your hair . . . your lips . . . your smile . . . your body . . . everything . . ." he sweetly kissed every part of her.

Betty felt her cheeks flush. Beautiful was the last thing she ever felt when naked – especially in front of such an incredible looking man. _But god he was amazing!_ And the sincerity in his eyes as he told her . . . the fact that he had confessed he loved her earlier . . . that she knew she loved him . . . how could she not trust this man, prove how much he meant to her?

"You're not so bad yourself," she nervously flirted, lightly running her fingers over him.

"I love you so much," he caressed her cheek.

"I love you, too," Betty placed her hand on his and stared into his eyes.

"Wait . . ." Daniel suddenly sat up and hesitated._ "Oh god!_ . . . Baby, I'm so sorry! I don't have –" he realized, running his hands over his face. She reached in her nightstand for the box.

"One of these?" she assumed, holding up a condom.

"How did you –? You really _are_ ready," he sheepishly grinned.

"I guess I am . . ." she shyly smiled as he teased her lips.

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"Hey . . . are you okay? You've been kinda quiet," Daniel asked, stroking her hair as she rested her head on his chest, her eyelids lazily drooping after three rounds of lovemaking.

"Yeah, just tired," she smiled and kissed his chest. But definitely a good tired.

"You sure?" he wondered, kissing her forehead.

"You're gonna make me wake up, aren't you?" she light-heartedly sighed.

"No . . . it's just quiet is usually a bad thing," he worried.

"Daniel, you have nothing to worry about. I love you. And what we just did . . . it was beyond amazing . . . I've never felt like that with anyone before . . . _ever_," she reluctantly admitted.

"Ever? You mean, not even with Wonder Boy?" he asked. She giggled. It was adorable how jealous he got – even when they were on another continent.

"No - not even with Matt. It was probably my fault in a way. I was never as into him as he was with me. I was always wishing I was somewhere else, for the most part," she guiltily confessed.

"And now?" he asked.

". . . Now I'm exactly where I should be . . . where I want to be," she assured him, toying with his fingers. "What about you? Was it okay . . . was _I_ okay? I know I'm not as . . . 'well-educated' as the other girls you've been with . . ." she tensed-up, suddenly realizing maybe he was having reservations.

"Betty, it was incredible – _you_ were incredible. I've never connected with someone like that . . . it was like you could read my mind . . . we just fit together . . . it was perfect," he confessed.

"Really?" she apprehensively looked up at him.

"Really," he reassured her, pulling the covers over them and holding her tight.

She smiled, relieved, and snuggled back down on his chest. This was how it was supposed to feel – happy . . . safe . . . no regrets . . . nothing held back.

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Betty woke the next morning in a state of bliss, rubbing her eyes she gazed up at Daniel. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, his hair disheveled, light stubble over his cheeks and chin.

But after a half an hour of watching his chest rise and fall, seeing him stir occasionally during a dream, she got restless. She gently kissed his chest, then his eyelids and lips.

Daniel slowly opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning upward in a pleasantly surprised smile. "Can I get a wake-up call like that every morning?" he requested, pulling her on top of him.

"Maybe . . . if you're good," she giggled.

"Oh . . . well then I promise to always be very . . . very . . . good," he teased, kissing her neck, grazing his teeth on her shoulder before capturing her lips. She felt his hands roam all over her body.

"Again?" she curiously inquired.

"Again," he devilishly grinned. She laughed and reached into the drawer of her nightstand.

"This is one of the things I love about you," he commented.

"What?" she innocently wondered.

"You're always scarily prepared for anything – almost like you can sense what I'm going to forget or what I'm going to want," he elaborated.

"It's a gift, what can I say? So, test me," she challenged.

"Okay . . . what am I going to want for breakfast?" he quizzed.

"Hmm . . . let's see . . . you had a big dinner last night, but then again you worked up an appetite . . ." she contemplated before running her fingers through his hair and ardently covering his lips with hers. ". . . Nonfat double mocha latte and onion bagel with fat-free cream cheese," she confidently hypothesized, her forehead meeting his.

"You're _good_ . . . but back to what I'm currently craving . . ." he ravenously attacked her.

"_Aaah!_ _Daniel_ . . ." she squealed.

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As they cuddled on the bed, sharing an onion bagel, Betty thought about how lucky she was to still have Daniel in her life, how a weight had been lifted knowing he felt the same about her in every way, how crazy she was to drag her feet over taking the next step with him.

"You know at the wedding, I thought everything was finally falling into place in our lives . . . I figured out why I acted the way I did about Henry . . . why I was bored with Trista after five minutes, but could spend all day and all night with you and time always went by too fast," he began, absently caressing her arm.

She remembered he had acted pretty strange about her 'uninviting' him as her date when the misunderstanding with Henry happened. Was he jealous? He was pretty pouty when she told him, but she just figured it was his typical ego thing so she had blown it off. Only afterwards, he'd gone as far as costing Henry his job and made a big deal over protecting her, saying she was going backward. Did he really mean _he_ wanted to move _forward_ with her and just couldn't form the words?

"You mentioned earlier you'd known for two months that you were in love with me. Did the wedding have anything to do with it . . . is that when you first knew?" she carefully asked, taking another bite of her bagel. Daniel shook his head and swallowed.

"No. I had no idea I was _in_ love with you. But Hilda's speech made me realize that all those feelings I had over the years – the need to protect you, do anything for you . . . they were all out of love . . . I loved you – you were my best friend. And somewhere down the line – I don't know whether it was that week you were drooling over that lame-ass playwright or before that when you had a fit over 'Lexy like Sexy' - but I was attracted to you," he admitted.

"So all those times you teased me . . . ?" she assumed.

"On a subconscious level I think I wanted to know . . . what it'd be like . . ." he reflected.

"If I had looked at you like I did the other guys . . . if you had proven your father's theory wrong," she finished his thoughts.

"Yeah . . ." he hesitantly revealed, a little embarrassed. _Holy crap!_ All those little moments started to make sense. "Wow . . . that's . . . I mean it's not like I didn't acknowledge in my mind that you were cute . . . it was hard to deny it when you were voted Hottest Eligible Bachelor . . . but you were always just Daniel to me. I was never thrown by your fame or fortune," she told him.

"That's probably why I became so drawn to you. You were the only girl who wasn't after me for my money or because of my reputation. You called me on my BS and got me to open up about things I never dreamt of telling anyone. You never left my side – even when I was a complete and total jackass. And you helped me be a better person. My worst fear was always letting you down," he told her.

"I looked up to you, too. I never wanted to disappoint you, because your opinion meant so much to me – _you_ meant so much to me. You can ask my family how much junk food I went through every time we fought," she timidly smiled. Daniel chuckled.

"You know, in that moment when we were dancing, I thought we had all the time in the world – that _I_ had all the time in the world to figure things out. Test the waters . . . see if you were feeling like I was. At that moment, I was just glad you had asked me to come and that we had both owned up to having changed for the better. To be able to hold you in my arms for more than thirty seconds . . . make fun of Marc's hairdo . . . witness Justin's coming out . . . laugh at Amanda's drunken chicken dance . . . see Bobby pull practically everything but the garter out of Hilda's dress . . . look at you, so happy . . . so proud of your family . . . I knew that was exactly where I was meant to be," he confessed.

"And then I ruined everything," she said with remorse.

"No – you did what you felt was right for you. I was being selfish not wanting to let you go, wanting to keep everything how it always had been," he disagreed. "Honestly, if you hadn't told me you were moving here, I'm not sure it ever would've hit me that I was _in_ love with you. It took you leaving for me to own-up to it and do something about it," he pondered. "I know I didn't go about it the right way . . . and I left you hurt and confused . . . but I was the same . . ." he looked down at their locked hands.

"I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you sooner. I kept putting it off because it was the hardest thing for me to do. I didn't want to say goodbye to you – you meant too much to me and I didn't want to hurt you," Betty apologized.

"It's okay . . . like I said; it forced me to acknowledge just how strongly I felt about you. At first I was just going to tell you, but I chickened out. And after a while, I realized it wasn't fair to make you stay. You deserved to start a new life, a new job, explore a new country. Who was I to stand in your way?" Daniel apologized. "I know you said you've gotten past that, but I just wanted you to understand where I was coming from . . . why I acted like I did," he explained. Why was he bringing all this up right now?

"Daniel, it's okay," she assured him.

"I just don't want any secrets between us, so I felt I had to tell you this . . . and there's something else," he told her.

"What?" she asked. _Oh god_ – maybe Hilda was right. Maybe he did have a deep, dark, terrible secret.

"I, uh . . . I kinda made my confession known to the entire population of America – well, at least to anyone who knew us," he cringed.

"How?" she wondered. Did he do something other than that letter in MODE?

"I-I was tying up all the loose ends in New York before I came here and needed to write my final letter as editor of MODE. I was trying to pump myself up for coming to see you, build some confidence, as well as do some honest reflecting. So as I wrote it, I included some of what I felt for you, what I had been going through – without mentioning your name, of course," he elaborated. "But if anyone who knew us read it, they'd figure it out – know that I was in love with you. At the time I was kind of hoping you had already read it – it would've made my confession easier because you'd already know. But in another way, I was hoping you hadn't, because maybe it would freak you out or make you upset that I exposed something so private in a national magazine . . . It's obvious you didn't read it, but –" he explained.

"Daniel, I _did_ read it – it was beautiful," Betty told him.

"Y-You did? _Betty!_ How long have you known?" he asked, sitting up.

"Only since yesterday - Amanda called. She scanned me the page when she realized I had no clue," she told him.

"So you're not mad?" he apprehensively looked down at her.

"Mad? Why would I be mad? Not only did you profess your love for me, but you also weren't afraid to tell it to an entire country," she assured him.

"I just don't want to lose you, that's all," he revealed.

"Daniel, you will _never_ lose me. I'm not going anywhere, unless you're with me," she eased his fears.

"Promise?" he asked, unsurely.

"Promise," she sealed with a deep, loving kiss.

"Speaking of which, your little suggestion about moving in together? I think it's a great idea," she said.

"Seriously?" he slowly asked, trying not to get prematurely excited.

"Mmmhmm!" she perkily assured him, pecking his nose.

As Daniel grinned and enthusiastically hugged her, Betty realized not only did it make perfect sense, but now it felt right.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks so much for reading and for the great comments! Here's the next installment . . . :)_

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"Honey . . . I'm home!" Daniel called.

"Hey, you! Mmmm . . ." she said as they greeted each other with a soft lingering kiss that had now become pleasantly familiar, anytime they weren't able to ride home together.

"I feel like a '50s wife or something – not that I'm your wife – w-we're not married or anything –" she stammered. _God_, she was an idiot!

"Betty, relax. It was just a cheesy impulse and I know what you meant," he assured her.

Right. Just a cute joke. Her and her stupid unyielding mind . . . She flashed back to the day before:

_Daniel was in the shower after some car had sloshed muddy water on him on their way back from lunch. She'd never forget how adorably ridiculous he had looked, his shirt and pants stained and soaked, his face splattered with muddy splotches, the brown liquid dripping off his nose and chin. She luckily had been standing on the other side of him, away from the curb. They had to rush home so he could clean up. He had playfully threatened to drag her in the shower with him after she continuously poked fun at him, but she reasoned that if her hair got messed up they'd never make it back on time. _

_Betty had sat on their bed, texting her new assistant Phoebe to push back the meeting with the features editors, when Daniel's phone had rung. She had thought it might be important, so she searched for it in his jacket pockets and came across the signature blue box – the one whose contents usually made every woman's heart skip a beat. She was probably the only one whose stomach flip-flopped in fear. If that was what she believed it to be, she was in big trouble. _

_She restrained herself from opening it, reasoning that she wouldn't have even known if she hadn't been looking for his phone – phone. She fumbled through his jacket until she found his IPhone and saw there was a message from his mother. She didn't want to be the nosy girlfriend, but she thought maybe it was an emergency, so she listened to the voicemail:_

_"Daniel, this is your mother. I know you try your best to ignore me as much as possible, but it would be nice to hear from you, given it's been two weeks. From Amanda's immense addiction to gossip and Betty's phone call, I take it you two are still together and well. I assume you have finally given her that gorgeous monstrosity of a ring, considering it's been burning a hole in your pocket since you left New York. If not, I'd like to have another grandchild before I die and of course an invitation to the wedding. I love you, dear. Please call me back, if you can possibly find the time," Claire replied._

_Betty couldn't believe Daniel hadn't called his mother in that long. But what was more pressing was the confirmation of what was in the box and her preceding comments. Wedding? Grandchildren? She loved Daniel – she knew that for sure. But engaged . . . married? Just taking those last couple of steps had taken her a while. Marriage . . . that was huge. They had just moved in together, hadn't found their footing yet in that transition. _

_What if they never did? What if they couldn't stand each other after a few more weeks of tripping over boxes and bumping into each other in the bathroom? It happened. She'd heard that sometimes the cutest things about someone when you're dating become the most irritating after you're married._

_Not that she didn't want to marry Daniel. She couldn't think of anyone else she had truly wanted to take that leap with – not even when Henry had proposed. But it was so soon . . . and all these new adjustments at once . . .? Leaving her family, friends, and job behind, moving to a different country, starting a new more demanding job, her best friend suddenly showing up and wanting to be more . . . Just thinking about it made her exhausted. She had told herself to forget about it and deal with it when it happened . . ._

And now she let the wife joke slip. Maybe her subconscious was telling her she _was_ ready. Why else would that come out of her mouth? And if Daniel had had the ring as long as Claire claimed he had, why hadn't he mentioned anything remotely relating to the subject – even in passing - to see how she felt? Maybe he was having second thoughts . . . ? And if he was, it really shouldn't bother her, should it? It's not like she was anywhere near prepared to walk down the aisle anyway, so why did she care?

"Betty? Baby, where did you just go?" Daniel snapped her out of her thoughts.

"What? Nowhere – I was just stuck on what you just said – what I just said – or didn't say – or – never mind," she said.

"Hey, if you're worried I don't think we have a future together, don't. I think about it a lot. And I wouldn't have wanted to live with you if I didn't see us going somewhere. I wouldn't have moved to London if I didn't believe in us," he said with sincerity in his piercing blue eyes.

Betty nervously smiled.

"Daniel, I –" she was tongue-tied.

"It's okay. I know you're not ready for marriage, yet. It's only been a little over a week since I moved in. I just wanted to let you know that that _is_ where I ultimately want us to go. So don't freak out about letting things like that slip, if it's how you're feeling too – or even if you're just joking. It's not a big deal," Daniel told her.

Betty meekly nodded.

"Daniel, there's something I need to tell you," she nervously said.

Maybe she should just let it go, but she hated keeping secrets from him.

"Is it bad?" he asked.

"Maybe we'd better sit down," she suggested, leading him to the couch.

"_That's_ a good sign," he sarcastically muttered.

"Remember yesterday, when you had to take a shower after lunch?" she began.

"How could I forget the mud bath I didn't pay for?" he rolled his eyes.

"Well, while you were in the shower, your phone rang and I thought I'd answer it in case it was something important. When I was searching your jacket to find it . . . I uh . . . I found something else . . ." she confessed.

"You mean . . .?" his eyes widened as he realized what she was implying.

"Yeah . . ." she nodded.

"Did you . . . open it?" he asked.

"No . . . I didn't open it. I knew it wasn't mine to see – it might not even be mine - and I only noticed it because I was trying to find your phone," she assured him.

"It's okay – I trust you. I know you're not the type to go snooping in people's things unless there's a really good reason for it . . . And for the record, it's yours and no one else's," he told her.

Betty smiled, partially relieved. If only that was all there was to tell.

"There's more . . . I obviously didn't get to your phone in time, but I noticed a message from your mother . . ." she revealed.

"And you listened to it?" he said, slightly agitated.

"I thought it could be an emergency or something . . ." she defended herself.

"Betty you _know_ with my mother it's never important!" he groaned.

"Daniel, that's not true – with your family, it's the opposite. If they're calling to chat, you wonder if they're feeling alright," she countered.

"Okay, fine. So what was so horrible?" he asked.

"Nothing, this time. But I kinda heard some things I'm sure I wasn't supposed to hear . . . like you and me . . . a ring that's been 'burning a hole in your pocket since you left New York' . . . a wedding . . . and grandchildren . . ." she admitted.

"Oh, _god . . ._ This was _not_ how you were supposed to find out . . ." he ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

"I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to . . ." she apologized, gently kissing his cheek.

"I know. Come here," he sighed as he held her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. ". . . I was taking it after work to Nigel's brother Geoffrey, who works at the London branch, to have it resized – I measured your ring finger after you fell asleep," he confessed.

"So _that's_ why I had that weird dream of me trying to play that 'pull my finger' trick on Marc, who had a mustache and was talking in Amanda's voice . . ." she pieced together.

"Huh?" Daniel laughed.

"We ate milk and cookies that night – hence the mustache – and I had emailed Marc and talked to Amanda," she explained.

"Which reminds me – why haven't you called your mother? I know your family doesn't communicate like mine, but she deserves an update once a week," she scolded him.

"Yeah, I know – I've been . . . busy . . ." he wickedly grinned.

"Mmm . . . well I can make your workload lighter if you don't have time in your schedule . . ." she playfully threatened, pulling away from him.

"No – I promise I will call my mom," he insisted.

"Good," she deviously grinned. "I really am sorry,"

"I know - it wasn't your fault. And in case you're wondering, I really will ask you . . . when you're ready," he told her, taking her hand.

Betty shyly smiled. He truly was the sweetest, most patient, amazing man she'd ever known. A part of her wanted him to ask her then, but she knew it was just the moment.

"I love you," she genuinely told him, tenderly enveloping his lips with hers.

"I love you, too," he said, as they broke.

"So how did your first day with the interns go? Obviously long . . . Was Bunni too rough on them?" she changed the subject.

"Ehh . . . she's no Willie so I think they'll live. But I did talk to her about going a little easy on them. No point in scaring them away from the medium before they even apply for jobs," he cracked.

"Yeah, I guess so. And they need to learn that not everyone they work with is friendly. It _is_ ironic that Lindsay insisted she was the best fit for Creative Director," she laughed.

"Is it an unspoken rule that all of them have to be bitches or something? And who the hell names their kid after an animal?" he chuckled.

"I don't know . . . It's probably a nickname for Bernice or Bonnie or something, but she certainly _dresses_ the part . . ." she mocked with an over-the-top sexy walk.

"Oh, come on, Betty! She's conservative compared to the women at MODE," he defended, amused at her spot-on imitation.

"Don't give me that look!" she warned, as he pulled her onto his lap.

He was giving her that sympathetic, make her feel more attractive to boost her ego look. And that wasn't how she was feeling at all.

"If anything, I feel sorry for Bunni that she doesn't have any more self-respect," she stated. "By the way, where exactly did your eyes land first when you saw her?" she teasingly countered, casually hanging her arms around his neck.

". . . Her boobs," he hesitantly admitted.

"And next?" she inquired.

". . . Her ass," he mumbled. "_Exactly!_ Even when she's covered head-to-toe, she still manages to dress like a slut," she satisfyingly smirked, proving her point. Guys were so obvious sometimes.

Daniel innocently shrugged his shoulders.

"But . . . Lindsay's right about her job skills, so I guess I shouldn't complain," she added.

"And I think the students are getting off to a great start. They seem truly interested in absorbing any information they can," he said.

"Do _you_ like it? It has to be a big shift . . . handling college students as opposed to models and designers," Betty asked.

"Yeah . . . I really do. It's actually refreshing, seeing their faces light up just by stepping into a magazine office. And they seem to have a lot of potential, too," Daniel said.

"Good," she smiled.

"So, it looks like your mag's running right on schedule?" he assumed.

"Thankfully. The launch is at the end of this week," she said.

"Meeting with the new potential investors go okay?" he inquired.

"Yep. If the first issue does well, they're in," she answered.

"You're doing great," he told her.

"You think so?" she timidly asked.

"From what I saw, it's going to be a hit," Daniel assured her.

"I hope so. The last thing I need is to have moved here for nothing," Betty worried.

"This magazine is my dream . . . ever since I was a little girl I wanted to do this . . . make a difference in people's lives . . . inspire them by what they read," she reflected.

"And you will. Just look at your blog – it's already gone from seventy-two readers to over a thousand and the first issue's not even out yet," he said.

"It wasn't bad . . . connecting it with the print version of the magazine," she marveled at her own idea as she snuggled close to him.

"See, I told you. You were meant for much bigger things than being my assistant," he reminded her, kissing her temple.

"You hungry?" she asked.

"Yeah, but I'm too tired to move," he groaned.

"Me, too. Pizza?" she suggested.

"Yeah – and get some drinks. I looked in the fridge this morning and I think we're out of everything but coffee," he added.

"We don't even have wine?" she asked.

"Babe, we finished that off a couple days ago, remember?" he reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. Okay – I'll go call. Pick out a movie or show or something," she said, getting up.

"K," he told her, playfully smacking her ass as she left.

"Isn't that lame singing show you like on?" Daniel wondered, after Betty came back from ordering.

"That's right – 'Glee'!" she excitedly exclaimed. "I keep forgetting when stuff comes on, since the big move. They're behind here – I had to beg Amanda and Marc not to leak anything. And it's _not_ lame. I don't understand why you won't admit you like it. We've done karaoke before - and I caught you singing 'Sweet Caroline' in the shower," she teased.

"What? It's a classic," he defended.

"Say it!" she commanded.

"No – I am _not_ going to say it!" he laughed, as she tickled him.

"Say it or I'll make you sing a Mash-up!" she insisted, pouncing on him, causing him to laugh even more.

"Baby, I'm not good enough to come up with two songs that sound good togeth . . . er . . ." he let it slip.

Betty smugly folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. He was so easy to bust.

"Ok - fine! I'm a Gleek," he reluctantly admitted.

"Told ya!" she smirked, pecking his lips.

". . . That OCD girl's kinda hot," he mentioned.

"Oh, come on, Daniel! _Really?_" she judgingly rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, why?" he innocently asked.

"I don't know . . . she just reminds me of someone . . . I'm not sure who, but it's not in a good way," she explained, crinkling her nose.

Daniel chuckled.

"Don't worry, baby. You're much . . . much . . . sexier than her or Bunni," he kissed his way from her lips to her neck before he got interrupted.

"Babe, I love you – but it's starting . . ." she stopped him.

"_Now_ I know what's more important . . ." he grumbled.

"Oh, quit pouting! There's plenty of time for _that_ later. Besides, the pizza'll be here soon and I'm starving," she dismissed his complaint and repositioned herself in his lap to face the TV, her legs propped on the couch, her back resting against the side.

Daniel put his feet up on the coffee table and sighed.

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The next morning, Betty woke Daniel up in his favorite way - only this time he was unusually unresponsive.

"Baby . . . it's 7:30AM . . . time to open those gorgeous blue eyes . . ." she softly coaxed.

All she got was a small grunt.

"I'll even join you in the shower . . ." she bargained, grazing her fingers over all the right places. _That_ should wake him up. But it only caused a somewhat louder groan.

Something must be wrong, because Daniel Meade refusing sex or anything remotely related was like a cold day in hell. And she knew it wasn't her, since he had barely allowed her to get any sleep the past night, shamelessly hanging onto her words of 'plenty of time'.

"Come on, Meade – up! It's not fair for you to stay in bed when it's your fault we were up all night," she tried the tough tactic, pouncing on him.

He stirred a little, slightly opened his eyes then closed them again. She sighed and held her hand over his forehead.

"Babe you're hot," she discovered.

"If this is another form of foreplay, I'm too weak," he muttered, his eyes slowly opening again.

"No, Daniel – I'm serious. You're literally burning up. I'm getting the thermometer," she told him, going into the bathroom.

"You've got a temperature of 104 – you're going to a doctor," she insisted after taking his temperature.

"Not right now – can you please get off me?" he begged.

"No – Daniel, this is serious – we're going!" she commanded.

"Damn it, Betty, if you don't get off me – I'll never forgive myself for what'll happen next!" he warned.

"What?" she innocently asked.

"I'm gonna puke my guts out, ok? Off!" he desperately told her.

Startled, she quickly got up and he immediately rushed to the toilet. As she found her robe, Betty debated whether to go in after him or let him have his privacy. There were certain boundaries they hadn't really crossed, yet. Sure, he'd thrown up in front of her before when he was drunk or hung-over, but when he had just been sick he had basically kept that part to himself. He holed up in a hotel and had room service take care of basically anything else he had needed.

Well . . . other than the constant calls whining about how horrible he felt, from just the slightest case of the sniffles, while he guilt-tripped her into getting or doing things for him that went above and beyond the call of duty of an assistant or friend. Now that they were truly intimate, she felt more inclined than ever to take care of him. However, maybe he didn't feel as comfortable around her because of it. Screw it. He was seriously ill this time and he needed her – whether he acknowledged it or not.

She timidly walked into the bathroom to find him with the side of his head on the toilet seat, sweat glistening on his brow. She couldn't tell whether he was asleep or just resting his eyes.

"Daniel? Baby, we need to get you to a doctor," she gently brushed the wet hair away from his face.

"I don't think I can move," he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Here," she got him a cup of water to rinse out his mouth. "Do you think you can at least make it back in bed, for now?" she asked, preparing a cold, damp washcloth for his forehead, hoping it would bring down the fever a little.

He meekly nodded and attempted to get up with her help. They managed to reach the bed before he collapsed face down.

"I'm going to call Lindsay and tell him we won't be in today – see if he knows of a good doctor," she told him. She'd been meaning to look into it anyway, but hadn't found the time, yet.

"No – go. I'll be fine – I'm just gonna sleep it off, call room service if I need anything . . ." he half-heartedly said into the pillow, forgetting they weren't in a hotel.

"Daniel, you have a high fever. You need someone to stay with you and this isn't a hotel. I'm not leaving you. I can work from home today," she insisted.

Fortunately he didn't protest.

"Turn over, this'll help you cool off a little," she persuaded, caringly placing the washcloth on his forehead and kissing his cheek. "I'll be back," she said and worriedly grabbing her phone.

"Don't forget the champagne . . ." he mumbled.

Betty looked back at him before leaving the room. He was definitely not himself and it scared her.

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Betty sat in the town car attempting to text her assistant with one hand, her other incapacitated as Daniel absently clutched it to his heart, his head in her lap as he dozed in and out, curled up in a fetal position.

"Winston, I know it's not part of your job description and you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but could you please get this prescription filled for me? As you can see, I'm kinda otherwise engaged," she asked their driver as they arrived at the drugstore, pointing to her predicament.

"Mmm . . . engaged . . . so you _will_ marry me . . . hot honeymoon in Capri . . . Mrs. Betty Meade . . . my sexy wife . . ." Daniel deliriously muttered, happily cuddling into her.

Betty's face turned beet red.

"Of course, Ms. - erm . . . Meade," Winston good-naturedly chuckled.

Betty smiled, embarrassed and grateful as she handed him the prescription and some money before turning back to Daniel.

The doctor had said he must have contracted a strain of a common virus that he wasn't immune to, since he hadn't been a resident of the area for very long. Fortunately, Daniel would be fine with antibiotics, cold compresses, and lots of fluids and rest. In the meantime, he was spouting out things she wasn't sure she wanted announced to the world – especially when she hadn't exactly agreed to some of them herself.

But she had to admit he was adorable when he was this innocent and vulnerable. And there was nowhere else she'd rather be than by his side. She hoped the medication would bring down his fever, because she didn't know what she'd do if she lost him. He truly was her whole world . . . she wondered why it took her so long to realize it.

". . . I do," Daniel murmured.

"I do, too," Betty whispered, kissing his temple.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks again for reading and reviewing! This chapter is from both Betty and Daniel's views. It's based on a B&B prompt and Ingrid Michaelson's "The Way I Am". Enjoy! :)_

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Living together had proven to be a new and interesting experience – especially in such a tiny place as Betty's London flat. However, she and Daniel had agreed to take it slow and see how things went with their relationship before purchasing a bigger apartment together. In the meantime, they were learning even more about each other than they had in the past four years.

"What _is_ that stuff?" Betty asked, waving her hand in front of her nose, as Daniel rubbed a putrid-smelling substance on his face.

"Marc forced me to start using it, when he was my assistant. I know it reeks, but it prevents dark circles around your eyes," Daniel explained as he tried not to bump Betty while she was removing her makeup in the practically non-existent space that was their bathroom sink.

"Are you done with the toothpaste?" he asked, reaching across her for his toothbrush.

"Yep," she handed it to him and started brushing her own. They tried to take turns spitting, but Daniel accidentally got her arm instead of the sink.

"Eww!" Betty flinched and immediately grabbed a washcloth to wipe it off.

"Sorry, babe," Daniel apologized.

"It's okay," she smiled and continued to brush.

Only a few seconds later, he did it again.

"I think I'm going to finish in the kitchen," she said, slightly annoyed as she wiped more toothpaste-colored saliva off of her arm.

"Betty, I didn't mean to . . ." Daniel tried to smooth things over.

"I know you didn't, baby," she assured him, rinsing out her mouth and dropping her toothbrush into the holder mounted on the wall.

"It's just too crowded in here for two people," she said, grabbing her portable mirror, hairbrush, headband, and lotion. "We'll need to take turns from now on. Believe me, with a beauty queen and a fashion prince for family – you get used to it," she smirked, kissing his cheek and going to the kitchen.

Betty hated leaving Daniel like that, but it was too cramped in her bathroom – even as close as they were with each other. She hoped he wasn't upset with her, but if she got spit on one more time . . . She shook her head in amusement as she got out the ingredients for her facial mask. Justin had sent her the directions not long after she had moved, insisting she needed to have flawless skin since she'd be in the spotlight more often.

Usually, she'd brush his advice like that off. He tended to go overboard with those things. But she figured it didn't hurt to give herself the spa-like treatment once a month – especially when she didn't have to pay the expensive bill for it. She pulled her hair out of her face with the white cloth headband and began applying the mask.

The launch party for her new magazine was the next night and she wanted to do everything she could to look her best . . . Make sure nobody glanced at her and wondered what a sexy guy like Daniel was doing with her. Honestly, she wondered it herself sometimes. He had had the choice of any woman he wanted and he had picked _her_ to move across an ocean for.

Not that she didn't have enough self-esteem to realize beauty was more than a stick-thin body – it came in all shapes and sizes. But she still felt self-conscious about her appearance at times, especially now that an event was focusing on her and her accomplishments. True, it wasn't a fashion magazine. However, image was still considered to be a big part of the media – no matter what genre you were in.

Fortunately, Christina had designed a gorgeous red strapless cocktail dress that flattered her figure perfectly, Marc and Amanda had picked out a black Prada clutch from The Closet's overstock, Claire had sent her a pair of strappy black Ferragamo stilettos, and her family had sent her a pair of earrings and a matching bracelet for good luck.

Betty rubbed the vanilla-scented lotion on her hands and stared down at her nails. Even without her glasses on she could tell it was definitely time to get them re-done. She wondered if Daniel was finished yet. He took an awful long time for a guy – although she shouldn't be surprised, knowing him. She needed to get the polish remover out, so she wouldn't be charged extra. Betty innocently wandered back to the bathroom.

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Daniel sighed. He hated that Betty had to sacrifice her bathroom for him. But maybe a couple more weeks of this and she'd cave for a bigger flat. The bathroom wasn't their only issue – he had no room to store most of his stuff. And for a girl who used to be fashion-impaired, she certainly had a ton of clothes and shoes now.

He chuckled, remembering some of her hideous outfits, before absently staring at his reflection in the mirror. Pretty good for having been sick for a couple of days . . . Wait - was that another crease in his forehead? He had to stop raising his eyebrows so much. _Oh god_ – a gray hair! Was he really that old? He was thirty-six . . . that was still young, right?

Only, as he brushed his hair, he could swear more had been coming out on the brush recently. Maybe he should switch shampoos . . . or maybe he should start buying Rogaine - and color his hair. He couldn't expect Betty to stay with him if he looked ancient.

He couldn't compete with that new guy in the Proofs department. Ten years younger, flawless skin, body of a male model . . . And the way all the girls had been drooling over that guy – the way that guy had looked at Betty that afternoon . . . Daniel knew if he didn't start improving himself, 'Mr. Adonis' could easily steal Betty away.

After all, she was young and beautiful and didn't have to worry about wrinkles or her hair thinning or . . . _Damn it!_ He knew he shouldn't have skipped the gym that week. He'd have to go everyday if the 'uni-ab' stuck around for much longer. He fingered his once well-defined stomach in disappointment.

Although, his biceps were still in fairly good condition, considering. He flexed his arms in satisfaction. He guessed he didn't look too bad for his mid-thirties. Hell, when he truly thought about it, he was still worthy of his Sexiest Bachelor achievement. He satisfyingly admired himself.

"Babe? Are you jealous of somebody again?" Betty smirked as she stood in the doorway, knowing Daniel usually only obsessed over his body when he felt threatened.

She had witnessed daily trips to the gym, jumping-jacks and sit-ups in his office, extreme dieting, and excessive time in front of the mirror while he critiqued his figure. However, she _did_ enjoy having the practically-naked view, for a change . . .

"Uh . . . nope! Just getting ready for bed – _Ahh!_" he turned around and saw her green face, her hair held back by a white cloth headband.

"What?" she innocently asked.

"What the hell is on your face?" he cringed.

"It's an avocado mask - calm down! As many spas as you've been to, I know you've seen one before," she rolled her eyes.

"Well, yeah . . . but when I turned around, I expected to see my gorgeous girlfriend – not the Green Goblin," he defended himself.

"Thanks a lot!" she sarcastically replied.

"No - baby, I'm joking. C'mon, give me a break. You know I'm not used to all your night time rituals yet," he tried to explain.

"I guess not . . . And just so you know, I only do this once a month," she softened.

"Good, because I was really looking forward to a repeat of this morning . . ." he deviously grinned, latching onto her lower lip. "Mmm . . . this stuff's actually not bad," he admitted after unintentionally getting a taste of her mask in the process.

"Don't you _dare _start eating my mask! The launch party's tomorrow and cameras will be in my face the entire night," she playfully shoved him off of her.

"Betty, you know you're beautiful without using this stuff," Daniel reminded her.

"Just like you know you're still the sexiest man, without a six-pack or well-rested looking eyes?" Betty pointed out to him.

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about," Daniel denied his insecurity.

"I'll make a point of letting Emmett know we live together," she patronizingly patted his still well-sculpted chest. Daniel's mouth flew open.

"But I just told you I was fine – how did you -?" he wondered.

"Because I know you, Daniel," she smiled. "I'll even tell him we're engaged, if it would make you feel better," she told him, hoping he'd take the hint.

"But we're not. Betty, I can't ask you to do that . . . you're not ready. And besides, I'm fine – really. That guy's got _nothing_ on me," he scoffed.

"Very true - there's no one else I'll ever want to be with. I can just picture us growing old together . . ." she imagined.

"I think I'm already ahead of you on that one," he grumbled, still not grasping her subtleties.

"_Aww . . ._ Baby, you _are not_ – you act like you're in your seventies or something," she giggled.

"I'm halfway there . . ." he stubbornly maintained. "Don't you ever feel like you're dating an old guy? I mean, there were so many guys your age who fell all over you . . . and in the end, you picked _me_," he wondered.

"I've never seen you so down about yourself since Tyler out-modeled you at MODE. I think you're still suffering from the side effects of your antibiotics or something. Maybe you should go lie down, get some rest," she suggested.

"No, Betty, I'm serious. I never thought about it before – I just went with how I felt about you, but you're younger. You'll still be in the prime of your life while I'm getting gray hairs and wrinkles and . . ." he explained.

"Daniel, I wouldn't care if you were _bald_. I love _you_. You get me like no one else does. And you're smart, and funny, and accomplished . . . You're the sweetest, most amazing man I've ever known. I'd be crazy not to pick you. I love you more than anything," Betty assured him.

"Really?" Daniel timidly asked, surprised.

"Really," she confirmed. "I didn't tell you this earlier, but when you had that fever on Tuesday, I was so scared of losing you. I've never seen you so sick before . . . And I realized, you're the one person I can't live without," Betty confessed.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he cautiously dared to assume.

"I've been trying to give you clues this whole time," she shook her head in amusement. Daniel sheepishly grinned as he picked her up in his arms and spun her around, covering her with kisses.

"Daniel! You're ruining my facial!" Betty giggled. ". . . But I don't care," she smiled, wiping some of the green goop off of his face.

He grabbed a towel and carried her into the bedroom, gently laying her on the bed.

"We should make this our regular nighttime routine," Betty suggested, enjoying Daniel's enthusiasm and the way he caringly removed the avocado mixture from her face.

"I don't know, Betty. I think I want this night to be . . . unique," he mysteriously said, putting the towel down and taking the familiar blue box out of the nightstand.

Betty nervously sat up, not expecting Daniel to propose right then. She was only trying to let him know she was finally ready. That wasn't mentioning the way they both looked at the moment – it would be a pretty awkward story tell their families.

"Daniel," she tried to stop him.

"No – Betty, I know what you're going to say. That the timing isn't right . . . that we're not dressed and we've got slime residue all over our faces . . . I was going to take you someplace special . . . do the whole 'hide the ring' thing . . . but this, right now, it feels right - because it's real . . . it's us," Daniel told her, taking her hand.

Betty softly laughed, knowing he was right.

"We've never been the most conventional pair, and I didn't see it coming, but somehow over the years you slowly stole my heart. I've never met anyone like you . . . You're everything to me. I love you more than I could ever put into words and I'll never stop. That's why it would mean the world to me if you would be my wife," he continued, revealing a three karat platinum round-cut diamond ring, with diamonds surrounding the center stone, and a v-cut diamond band.

"Yes . . ." Betty sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Yes!" she repeated, falling into his arms. "On one condition though," she paused, before he slid the ring on her finger, a sly smile forming on her face.

"What?" Daniel asked, worriedly.

"We look for a bigger place immediately!" she teased.

"Deal!" Daniel grinned, placing the ring on her finger.

"I had you scared, didn't I?" Betty giggled.

"Come here!" he playfully demanded, throwing her back on the bed and insatiably attacking her.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you to all who have asked about this fic and to everyone who has ever read and/or commented on it. I'm sorry I dropped it for a while, but trying to juggle it along with other fics and the rest of my life ended up being too hard. I'm finally back to writing on it again, though. So, I won't keep you waiting any longer. Here's the next chapter . . . :)_

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"I cannot _believe_ how great Justin is getting along with Wilhelmina! I swear that boy has some sorta voodoo over her or somethin' 'cause not even Marc can read that bitch sometimes," Hilda said as she and Betty Skyped.

"That's hilarious! And good for Justin if he wants to get a job there later on –" she said as Daniel came in with a bag of groceries.

"Hey, baby," he smiled, briefly capturing her lips.

As he kissed her, Betty instinctively raised her hand up to touch his cheek, unaware of the commotion it would cause.

"Awww . . . you guys are too cute," Hilda cooed, causing Daniel to leave from embarrassment. "_Ay! _Was that bling I saw on your finger? Get back here, Mister! Did you put a rock on my sister's hand and not bother to tell me?"

Daniel shrugged, sheepishly, and went to put the food away.

"Daniel Meade, as your future sister-in-law, I demand you get your ass back over here!" Hilda commanded.

Daniel stifled his amusement. No wonder Justin was such a drama king, with Hilda as his mother. And thankfully, Betty motioned for him to stay where he was.

"Hilda, calm down! He only proposed last night. I was going to tell you, but I was waiting to do it when all of you were on. You have eyes like a hawk!" Betty rolled her own.

"Aunt Betty's getting married?" Justin exclaimed from the background.

Betty sighed. The chances of keeping this quiet were officially out the window . . .

"_O.M.G.! _You have _got_ to let me plan your wedding!" he insisted. "I'm texting Marc and Amanda to get started on the details –"

"_Aaaa!_ Put down that phone – _now!_ Papi doesn't even know yet!" Betty desperately tried to stop her nephew from spreading the news to the entire world.

"Grandpa doesn't know?" he said, shocked.

"Your pops doesn't know what?" Bobby entered the room. "Oh, hey, Chipmunk!"

Betty buried her head in her hands and groaned.

"She and Daniel are engaged!" Hilda explained.

"Congrats, sweetie! Hey – what's with the face? Is he not treatin' you right? 'Cause I'll –" Bobby threatened.

"Honey, relax. Betty's just all pissed because I figured it out before she could tell all of us. Papi's the only one who has no freakin' clue," Hilda told him.

"_Damn . . ._ good luck with keepin' _these two_ from shuttin' their mouths," he snorted at Betty.

Hilda smacked him.

"You know, a _good_ brother-in-law would help me out," Betty huffed.

"You got it. Anythin' for you, Chipmunk – consider it done," Bobby promised.

"Thank you, Bobby," she smiled. "Hilda, Justin – zip it until I call Dad! And that includes texts, tweets, Facebook, blogs – nothing! Now I only have two hours to call him _and_ get ready for the launch party,"

"_This_ from the girl who used to spend two _minutes!_" Hilda shook her head.

"It's the Dolce to my Gabbana-loving eyes," Justin chimed in.

"Goodbye . . ." Betty scoffed, closing her laptop, grumbling incoherently as she searched for her phone.

"That bad, huh?" Daniel asked, his arms encircling her waist.

"This was supposed to be a happy moment – not a mini-crisis," she groaned.

He kissed her forehead.

"Breathe," he softly told her.

They both smiled at each other as she lowered his forehead to hers.

"I'm not having a meltdown," she assured him.

"I know. Go get dressed. We'll call your dad after you're ready. This is your big night – _no one's_ going to ruin it for you," he vowed.

"Thank you, baby," she kissed his cheek. "Don't forget we have to call your mom, too,"

"Yeah, she'll kill me if she hears it from someone else first," he chuckled and finished putting the food away.

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"Looks like you were a hit last night!" Daniel walked into her office with the latest tabloid, entitled 'Meade Snags Stunning New Mag Mama!'.

"Yeah, but obviously not because of the magazine," Betty frowned.

"Hey, the press ate up your first issue. Yeah, they got a little carried away with our engagement, but it'll all die down. And your mag will still be flying off the racks," he told her.

"I hope you're right. But – I can't dwell on it! I just have to think positively!" she forced a smile. "So on another subject, I did a quick search and found some places for us to look at. And since I knew your schedule was free, I called a realtor and she booked us for some showings this afternoon,"

"How did you know that? _I_ didn't even know that," Daniel said, perplexed.

"All I did was ask Bryton. You know, your assistant – the one who organizes your day? You should try asking him about it sometime," she teased.

"I do – but since my schedule's pretty much the same every day, I usually don't ask what's next until after lunch," he defended.

Betty stifled a laugh.

"Well, your students had a half day today, since it's the start of exam week for the ones who are taking summer courses. So you're free. And I only had a couple of meetings to take care of this morning so I figured it was perfect timing," she explained.

"Oh," Daniel replied, surprised.

"Unless you don't want to?" she added, expecting a little more excitement.

"No – No it's fine. I asked you to start looking. I just didn't think we could get any showings in that fast," he answered. "So which ones are we going to?"

"Well, here are a couple of two bedrooms in Kensington – one of them only has one and a half baths instead of two full, but at least we wouldn't be fighting over the sink. And here's a three bedroom in Chelsea – it has two and a half baths, but I think it might be a little out of our price range. And here's –" she began.

"Is that the rent per month?" he wondered.

"Yeah?" she said.

Daniel couldn't contain his laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" she asked, a little irritated after all the trouble she went to.

"Betty, that's usually how much I spend on my _wardrobe_. I think we can afford a lot bigger than these," he informed her.

"Daniel, I want to pay equally on this and when I did the math, that three bedroom is pushing it," she said.

"Baby, your salary is going to increase as your magazine takes off – and I guarantee it will. Besides, we're getting married. You don't have to worry about money anymore – I can make up the difference, wherever we live. So instead of being practical, look for your dream home. And I'll do my best to make it a reality. I want a place where we can spend the rest of our lives, raise our children," he said.

"But Daniel . . ." Betty protested.

"Here – bump it up to that price range and start looking. I'll call the agent back," he insisted, grabbing the number off of her desk.

"_Shut!_ _Up!_ You can't be serious!" she exclaimed, her jaw dropping. "Daniel, you had to go to Cal Hartley in order to save MODE from going under. There's no way you can afford to spend that much!"

"Relax, I gained it all back after MODE recovered, and I also sold all but a couple of my investment properties before the market crashed," he assured her. "Now stop worrying and have fun. Maybe we'll even get in to see a property or two, after all,"

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Daniel and Betty toured five homes that afternoon, three townhouses and two houses, all in elite parts of the city. Betty tried her best to hide her excitement, kept her reactions subtle, but Daniel could tell when she really loved a place. He wasn't sure why she was muffling her enthusiasm, other than her stubbornness to equally contribute to their financial expenses. But he refused to let her independence and practicality get in the way of what she wanted.

"Daniel, you could fit my entire flat into the living room of some of these places," she remarked.

"Yeah, I know," he marveled.

"But don't you think these are a little . . . too big. I mean, I know we don't want to be on top of each other –" she wavered.

"Actually, that can be a good thing . . ." he flirted.

"Get your mind out of the gutter for two seconds!" she lightly smacked him. "All I'm saying is that I don't want to walk five miles to get from one end of the house to the other. I know we haven't talked about it a lot, but what if we had kids? What if one of them had an emergency? They could be dead before we got to them,"

"Babe, you're exaggerating," he chuckled.

"Maybe a little. But I don't want to get lost in my own home, either. As cool as having entire wings would be, who would clean them? I have trouble keeping my postage stamp apartment looking decent," she said.

"Well, more room means more space to store all of our stuff. It's easier to keep things organized if you have a place to put everything in. And as far as the dusting and vacuuming and all that, my mom always had a maid," he reasoned.

"You're kidding, right?" she gave him a skeptical look just before the agent came back to check on them.

"Fancy anything in particular?" the older woman asked.

"They were all amazing, but I'm not sure if we're up for a decision yet. Could you give us a few more minutes to talk it over?" Daniel requested.

"Of course," she politely smiled and left the room.

Daniel turned to Betty and took her hand.

"You want the second house we saw – the one with the courtyard, the arches and the private balcony off of the master suite," he said.

"I-I don't want any of them . . ." Betty lowered her head.

"Liar. I know you loved that house. Your eyes lit up and you tried to hide a smile on your face. Something's holding you back – and we're not leaving until you tell me," he stood his ground.

She guiltily swung their intertwined hands.

"I-It's nothing . . . only . . . I don't want to hurt my father," she admitted.

Daniel led her over to the couch in the family room.

"What do you mean?" he wondered.

"These homes – my father struggled for years to pay the bills and even had to have his daughters help out after Mami died. Now I'm looking at mansions like it's nothing? It feels like I'm throwing it in his face that I'm doing better than he did," she explained.

"Betty, if I know anything about your dad it's that he's always wanted the best for you and Hilda. He's always been proud of your success. I don't think he would want you to compromise your happiness – I think he'd want you to enjoy it," Daniel told her.

"You're not just saying that to get me to lighten up?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe a little – but Betty, one of the things I admire most about you is how much you care about other people. You always think of their feelings first. I guess I think, like your moving here and taking the new job, you should do something for yourself once in a while," he reasoned. "But we don't have to decide anything today. We can go home, think it over . . . maybe find some other houses you'd like even better,"

"No - maybe you're right . . . Maybe I _am_ trying too hard to please other people. And at least whenever my family visited; we'd have plenty of room for them to stay – and yours, too.

"Exactly. And I, for one, think we could put one of these oversized Jacuzzi tubs to very good use . . ." he deviously grinned, briefly kissing her lips. "Let's go,"

"Wait – you haven't said which one _you_ liked best," she stopped him.

"I'm happy wherever you're happy," he replied.

Betty gave him an exasperated look.

"Okay. I honestly liked this house and the one you liked, except I thought the hardwood floors were in better condition in this one. But that's a minor thing. We could probably get it knocked off of the purchase price or the closing cost or something and then hire someone to replace or refinish them," Daniel admitted.

"So you'd be happy with the one I liked . . . or would _you_ just be compromising for _me?_" she wondered.

"Except for the floor issue – which can be fixed - I would be equally happy in either of them," he said.

"If you're sure . . . then the second one," she told him.

"Looks like we're getting a house," he grinned, picking her up and spinning her around.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"The inspection report came in," Betty said as Daniel entered her office.

"And? Are we good to close?" he asked.

"They found termites," she slapped the report on her desk and sighed.

"Do you wanna back out or have the problem fixed? I mean, how bad can it be – we didn't see any visible evidence when we were there?" Daniel said.

"I guess they were in the crawl space, gnawing on some of the main boards of the structure," she shrugged.

"Wow . . ." he ran his hand over his face.

"I don't think it's a minor issue anymore. I think we need to take the other house, if it's still on the market, or keep looking," she said.

"I know you had your heart set on this one," he pulled her onto the traditional leather chaise with him.

"It's okay. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I guess I just didn't expect it to turn out this way, since I haven't dealt with real estate very much. I still liked the other house we saw – the one that was your favorite. And honestly, I could live in a run-down shack as long as I had you," she confessed, looking down at her ring.

Daniel fingered it and smiled at her.

"Me, too . . . Have you thought any more about a wedding?" he asked.

She leaned back against him.

"Justin thinks we should have it in Malibu with a thousand guests and all the celebrities we've ever met – he has it all planned," she mused.

"What do _you_ think?" Daniel prompted.

"I liked your idea of a honeymoon in Capri," she replied.

"When did I tell you that?" he wondered.

"You were kinda out of it – it was when you had that really bad virus. You were muttering things like that and about us getting married," she explained.

"I'm sure Winston gave you a hard time," he chuckled.

"You have no idea," she rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I thought maybe we could not only have our honeymoon there, but also get married there. I've seen pictures and it's so pretty. We could invite just our immediate families and a few close friends and co-workers . . . But that's just my thought – did you have something else in mind?"

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple.

"No, that sounds perfect. And maybe we could expand our honeymoon to include Milan and Paris, too – get the whole European tour," he suggested.

"That would be amazing," she closed her eyes and imagined everything for a moment.

"Yeah . . . April? It'd be warm enough, but not swarming with tourists," he contemplated.

"Good thinking," she said. "You wanna be the one to break it to your future nephew that his star-studded event is a no-go?"

Daniel snorted.

"Are you kidding? I'm gonna need back up for that one!" he joked. "Come on - it's getting late. We should go home and think this whole house thing out over dinner. We've got to give Maura our answer in a few days,"

She put her arm around his waist and walked out with him.

"Planning our future is harder than I thought," she admitted.

"Yeah, but that just means it's worth it," he smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you for your feedback - it's really appreciated! :) Here's the next chapter . . ._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is the second time a deal on a house fell through. Maybe it's a sign," Betty groaned.

"Hey, we'll find something – I know we will. Maybe we should take a break from it. All this looking and making offers that never come through is stressing you out. Hell - it's stressing _me_ out just seeing you like this," he soothed her.

"I guess you're right. I mean, we've searched through about thirty homes so far and nothing's worked. If we wait a while, something really great could show up," she agreed.

"So more tripping over each other and fighting over the bathroom?" Daniel teased.

"We're stuck with each other – but I thought you liked my new time-saving idea?" she flirted.

"Yeah, I think we should keep showering together – no matter how many bathrooms we have . . ." he deviously grinned.

She shifted on his lap and seductively kissed him, then pulled away.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, before she grabbed his hand, pulling him off the couch. "We haven't even eaten dinner yet – someone's in a great mood . . ."

"And you've had too much wine on an empty stomach," she rolled her eyes. "I need you to help me pick out something to wear for tomorrow night. Lindsay said his new fiancée really wants to have dinner with us, for some reason,"

"Why would she care about us?" he wondered.

Betty shrugged.

"Who knows? Maybe she's seen our work or something," she guessed. "What about this one?"

"I like it . . . but this one I _love . . ._" Daniel suggested, holding up a black see-through gown.

"Daniel, that's a negligee – be serious!" she rolled her eyes.

"I am," he boyishly grinned. "Try it on,"

"_No!_ Are you gonna help me or not?" she huffed.

"Okay . . ." he sighed.

"Good. Now, I need something that I haven't been seen in – nothing I've worn to work or to a related function," Betty said.

Daniel rifled through her closet like the pro he was.

"This one," he decided.

"The plum one?" she confirmed.

"You've never worn it in public," he reasoned. "And I love what it commemorates,"

"Our two big firsts? _Aww . . ._ you remember," she smiled.

"How could I forget?" he said, caressing her cheek.

She inched her lips toward his when the doorbell rang.

Daniel groaned.

"Later," she giggled, patting his ass before getting the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Betty, Daniel. I'd like you to meet my fiancée, Victoria Hartley," Lindsay introduced them as they all sat down.

"Betty, so good to see you again, my dear. And Daniel, always a pleasure," Victoria greeted them, artificial politeness oozing out of her mouth.

"Mrs. Hartley?" Betty said, dumbfounded.

"Victoria?" Daniel spoke with equal surprise.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you both are wondering how I went from Madison Avenue to Millionaire's Row. However, I suppose the same could be inquired of the both of you," she subtly criticized. "Betty, you've made quite a life for yourself - landing a magazine _and_ a Meade,"

Betty bit her tongue.

"Thank you," she cleverly replied.

Daniel cleared his throat to stifle his amusement.

"So Victoria, Lindsay, how did you guys meet?" he asked.

"Well, it's quite humorous, actually. I was in the States for an engagement party of the daughter of an old mate from university. And Victoria has ties with her mother," Lindsay said.

"Bitsy and I have shared many splendid times over a good martini," Victoria explained.

"Anyhow, I was in the coat room, discarding my jacket when she whisked hers in my face, assuming I was the checker. Needless to say, I was rather brassed-off and we had a bit of a row, but in the end we became quite smitten," he continued.

"That's so . . . sweet," Betty managed.

"Yeah," Daniel agreed.

"So tell me Daniel, when did Betty succeed in placing you under her spell?" Victoria cheekily inquired.

Daniel restrained himself.

"Uh . . . Well to tell you the truth, Victoria, I fell for Betty before she even had a clue. Lindsay, here, had offered her a job and when I found out she was leaving, I realized I couldn't live without her. I also realized I wanted to pursue other career opportunities, so I resigned and chased her across the ocean," he smiled, sheepishly. "She didn't want to ruin our friendship, and it took some convincing, but here we are,"

"And I couldn't be happier," Betty added, squeezing his hand.

"Very intriguing story . . ." Victoria stated.

"Lovely. Sometimes we need a good knocking-up before we find out who means the most to us," Lindsay commented.

Betty and Daniel looked at each other in confusion.

"I'm not pregnant!" she insisted.

"No, no. My deepest apologies, dear. I believe we still have a bit of a language barrier. Perhaps the term Americans prefer is waking-up?" Lindsay clarified.

"Oh," both she and Daniel laughed nervously in relief.

"Has Matt returned from Africa?" Betty asked Victoria, attempting to change the subject.

She wasn't sure what Victoria's angle was, but it was obvious she was still the same judgmental woman she had been the last time they had conversed.

"Matthew was scheduled to return home at the end of last month. However, he liked Africa so much; he's planning on staying for another six. I _can't_ thank you enough for that, Betty," Victoria replied, her words clearly resentful to all except Lindsay. "I need to powder my nose. Betty, dear, why don't you join me?"

Betty nervously looked at Daniel and slowly let go of his hand to follow Victoria.

"I see you didn't waste any time moving on, after my son left," Victoria scorned as she took out her compact.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Matt and I had a clean break. We wanted different things and decided it was best to go our separate ways," Betty replied. "Why do you care, anyway? You never accepted our relationship in the first place,"

"You might not have been my choice for Matthew, but he is still my son, and no mother likes to see their child hurt," Victoria answered.

"Like I said, we parted as friends," Betty assured her.

"You certainly have an interesting choice in men . . . first sticking your unkempt lower-class claws into my son and now Daniel Meade?" Victoria retorted.

Betty slammed her clutch on the counter.

"Why do you care who I'm with now? And for your information, Daniel spoke the truth – _he _chased _me._ And I was never in it for the money with either him or Matt," Betty snapped.

"I believe you, Betty. However, men of such status deserve to be seen with women of a more renowned background than that of your own, don't you think?" Victoria stated.

"That's funny coming from a woman who grew up on a small cotton farm in Arkansas, graduated from community college, and worked as a sales clerk at Loehmann's before meeting her millionaire husband," Betty smirked. "I would have thought you'd have a different perspective, considering,"

Victoria's mouth dropped wide open and was rendered speechless.

"Don't mess with me or the people I care about – and that includes Lindsay. I know more than you think," Betty warned, before gaining her composure and walking back to their table.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That woman is up to something – she _has_ to be!" Betty grumbled as she and Daniel came home. "Did you know she accused me of being a gold-digger and not of the right background to be seen with someone like you? She didn't exactly grow-up in high-class society either . . ."

"Really?" Daniel said, surprised.

"Struggling farmer's daughter turned discount sales clerk before she met Cal," she informed him.

"Wow . . ." he chuckled. "I don't know. Seems to me she's just a little bitter on her son's behalf,"

"Daniel, Victoria's always despised me! When Matt and I broke up I'm sure she was popping the cork on the finest champagne," she half-exaggerated, flopping on the couch.

"Okay, maybe you're right. She and my mother have never seen eye-to-eye either. Plus, you said your break-up with Matt was mutual, right?" he reconsidered, sitting beside her.

"Yeah . . . I mean, I was shocked and upset that he was leaving for Africa for that long, but I knew something was missing for us and it was better to end it," Betty thought back.

"Maybe she's just upset that Matt's new passion is so far away and she thinks you had something to do with it?" he guessed.

"Maybe . . . but that still doesn't explain her engagement to Lindsay. She still has the money Cal left her from the divorce – maybe she's being greedy . . . latching onto any rich man she can find – unless she's just lonely? But if that were the case, it's a little too coincidental that she'd find yet another millionaire to marry, right?" Betty contemplated.

"Not necessarily. I can see how it'd be hard to go back. Once Victoria marries someone else, Cal doesn't have to pay alimony anymore," Daniel pointed out.

"You're right. And she's _definitely_ not the type of person who could live without the finer things in life," she laughed. "I can just see her cringing at takeout and buying in bulk from discount stores,"

"Me, too. You know, when Alex and I were younger, our families stayed at the Hartley's private condo on the beach. Victoria wouldn't let Matt anywhere _near_ a hot dog vendor," he mused. "I kinda felt sorry for the little guy,"

"Aww . . . So I take it your parents didn't shelter you that much?" she assumed.

"Are you kidding? Mom was too busy sneaking booze into her club sodas and Dad was too concerned about business to care what Alex and I got into. As long as we weren't hurt or in trouble we did whatever we wanted . . . I kinda envy Matt in a way. Victoria may have been overprotective, but at least she paid attention to him when he was younger,"

"I know your Mom regrets it. She's told me before that she wished she had done things differently," Betty comforted him.

"She's told me, too. And she's tried to make up for it. I don't resent her for it anymore – I know she and Dad were having problems . . . I just wish things had been better – more like the childhood you had," he admitted.

She gently brushed her hand along his jawline.

"I'm sorry. But if it makes you feel any better, my family wasn't perfect. Mami and Papi fought all the time about the bills and me and Hilda . . . whether they'd have enough to pay for Hilda's dance lessons, or my book club, or even a yearly trip to the pediatrician. And when Mami got sick, it was worse. But the one thing I was always sure of – no matter how bad things were - was that they loved each other and they loved us. I guess I'm really lucky, when I think about it," she reflected.

"Yeah . . . And as far as Victoria goes, I think we should wait and see," Daniel suggested. "Maybe she won't cause any trouble at all,"

"You're right. Nothing's happened yet," she agreed.

Daniel turned on the sound system and stretched out on the couch, pulling her down with him.

"Let's just relax, for once. I know when you have a thought in your head, your mind goes into overdrive," he teased.

"A little, I guess. It's just there are so many things going on right now – work, house-hunting, Victoria showing up, and I haven't even started on the wedding . . ." Betty began.

"Shh . . . not now," he kissed her temple. "No talking or thinking about anything stress-related for a while,"

"Okay," she relented.

Closing her eyes and listening to the soft sounds of Norah Jones, she eventually thought about nothing other than how good it felt to lie peacefully in the warmth of Daniel's arms. Knowing he would always be there for her made everything else fall away.


	10. Chapter 10

Really sorry for not posting another chapter in so long, but I was recovering from emergency surgery and then had to catch up on everything else in life. Thank you all for reading and for the reviews! Here's the next chapter . . . :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you sure you really want to go through this again, so soon?" Daniel asked as he and Betty walked up the path to another house.

"Positive. I looked online and took the virtual tour," she assured him.

"Virtual tour?" he crinkled his brow, clueless.

"You know, a video with a narrative description of the rooms in the house?"

"They have those?" he said, surprised. "When I looked for my apartment, I was lucky to get a few pictures and a couple of sentences."

"Yep. A lot of agencies have gotten better at marketing in the past few years. Anyway, this home is a combination of the first two we wanted – we can't pass this chance up!" Betty insisted, eagerly passing him on the walkway.

Daniel caught up with her at the door, leaning his chin on the top of her head as he rubbed her arms.

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up. You've had so much stress lately," he explained.

Betty turned to face him, gently cradling his face in her hands.

"This is the one – I can feel it!" she grinned.

"What's gotten into you? You haven't been your cheery self since I asked you to marry me," he wondered.

"Well, speaking of marriage, I managed to book everything for the wedding," she said, proudly.

"When did you find time to do all this?" Daniel asked, amazed.

"During a few lunch hours. Now all I have to do is take care of my dress . . . and the cake – I thought you'd wanna be in on that," she teased.

"Yeah, I'll definitely help you with the dress –" he flirted.

"Dream on! I don't care how some people do it on 'Say Yes to the Dress' - you're not seeing an inch of it until I walk down the aisle," she rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him. "Oh! There's Maura!"

"Hello, Betty, Daniel – am I a bit late?" the woman asked.

"Oh, no – we're actually early. We couldn't wait to see it!" Betty said, wrapping her arm around Daniel's waist.

"Well, _she_ couldn't – I would've preferred twenty more minutes of sleep," he joked.

Betty jabbed him.

Maura smiled and opened the electronic lockbox on the front door.

"Come along, I have a feeling you two will fancy this home. It has a lot of character, has only had one prior owner, and is only four years old," the realtor described, leading them into the large foyer to begin their showing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Say it!" Betty demanded, two weeks later, as she held the clean inspection papers up.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Daniel lied.

"Yes you do – you're just too stubborn to admit it. Face it, Daniel – after all these years, you should have a ton of practice," she smirked.

"Hey – I've had my share of 'I told you so's'," he defended.

Betty gave him a skeptical look.

"Okay, you've had a lot more. But, you're right. Everything worked out this time and we'll have a great, termite-free house in six weeks," Daniel admitted.

"See - think positively and everything turns out okay – well, most of the time," she smiled.

"So are you ready to start decorating? We're gonna need a lot more furniture than what we have now and I picked up some catalogs to give us ideas," Daniel said, handing them to Betty as he sat beside her on the couch.

"We can look – but no buying yet. Don't you remember what Maura said about not making any big purchases until _after_ we closed?" she reminded him.

"When did she say that?" he asked.

"Right after she mentioned that the fridge with the built-in TV stayed. We started talking about other appliances . . . Do you ever pay attention?" Betty shook her head.

"I think you guys lost me after she said we could keep the cool TV," he sheepishly grinned.

"_Daniel!_" she berated him. "Have you not learned anything from daydreaming during all those financial meetings?"

"Betty, it's a _TV_ in a _refrigerator_ – I could get a drink from the kitchen and not miss a second of the game," he excused.

"Isn't that what DVRs are for?" she pointed out. "Besides, it'll just make you stand there longer with the door open because you're too distracted by whatever's on to make a decision."

"And so would you," he countered.

"I would _not!_" Betty protested.

"Babe, I've caught you at one in the morning debating for fifteen minutes over double fudge brownie or cookie dough ice cream. If one of those classic movies you love were on, you'd be there 'til 3AM," Daniel smirked.

"The _one_ time I fall asleep in front of the fridge . . ." she grumbled. He'd never let her live that one down . . . "Okay – let's make a deal – no longer than two minutes in front of it unless the doors are closed."

"Deal," he kissed her. "Now, back to these magazines – we can't get anything now, but when we can, I was thinking we _have_ to have one of these!"

"A combination foosball, pool, and dining table?" Betty cringed.

"How cool is that? And look – you can get it in three different colors," Daniel drooled.

"You're serious?" she looked at him in disbelief.

"Yeah. What? You don't like it?" he innocently asked.

"It's . . . great. But I don't want our new home to be a frat house for all your interns," she answered.

"Oh," he said, disappointedly.

"But – hey! We can put it in the loft – have a whole game room up there . . . and a karaoke machine –"

"Karaoke?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah! We haven't done that in forever . . ." she said, nostalgically. "Now we could play it all the time!"

"You mean you haven't _dragged_ me there," he teased.

"You had fun," she argued.

"Yeah, I guess after a few drinks, the fear of embarrassment wears off and it's not so bad," he smiled, thinking of the first time they sang together. How they shared wine and a song that had more meaning to their relationship than they had realized at the time.

Betty looked at Daniel's goofy face and smiled. She couldn't believe they'd gone from boss and assistant to picking out furniture together. It was weird, but it felt right, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Betty?" Daniel pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Mmmh?" she said.

"So I was thinking we could have a wet bar up there, too?" he suggested.

"Sure. I'm just glad we finally got a house," she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Me, too," Daniel agreed. "Everything's falling into place – the house, our wedding . . . It can't get any better."

"Nope," she smiled up at him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to see me?" Betty said as she timidly walked into Lindsay's office the next Monday.

"Sit down, dear," Lindsay offered.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked worriedly as she took a seat in the leather office chair.

"Oh, no - nothing to bother about. In fact, it's rather good news in my opinion. Betty, I believe since you and Victoria know each other so well, you'll work splendidly together on your magazine," Lindsay told her.

"What? I'm sorry, did I miss something? You said Victoria and I are going to be working together?" Betty repeated, completely thrown.

"Yes. Victoria has been itching to get into publishing and I believe she could be of use as a creative editor – perhaps make some occasional suggestions," he replied.

"But we've already got a –" she began to delicately protest.

"Yes, yes. I'm aware. Just give her a chance – humor her, as you say. You don't have to run with anything you don't see fit," Lindsay assured her.

"Okay . . ." she hesitated. "I'll do my best."

"Good. I knew I could count on you," Lindsay smiled.

Betty faked a cheerful smile as she left; knowing working with Victoria wouldn't be nearly as easy as what her boss thought it would be.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hello, Betty. Isn't it a marvelous day?" Victoria entered Betty's office.

"For some people, I guess," Betty remarked.

"I take it Lindsay told you the good news – I'll be overseeing the creative direction of your magazine," Victoria gloated.

"Nooo . . . you'll be bouncing ideas off of _me_. _Bunni_ is still the Creative Director and Lindsay made it very clear that _I'm_ the one who has the final say," Betty corrected her.

Victoria stiffened.

"Very well, then. Just know that if _I'm_ unhappy, _Lindsay_ will be unhappy – and I can make your life miserable if I don't get what I want," she threatened.

"You don't scare me, Victoria. I know that Lindsay has more intelligence and integrity than to let you mess with one of his profitable magazines and get away with it. He trusts me to run this publication the way _I_ think it should be run. I have no problem with hearing your suggestions – listening to other people's opinions can be very helpful. But don't think I'll use them just because you say them," Betty warned.

"My, my . . . you've become quite confident of yourself, haven't you? I suppose having had three powerful and wealthy men dote on you has given you a complex. But I wouldn't get too comfortable, if I were you . . ." she smirked, leaving before Betty had a chance to respond.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty nervously walked into Lindsay's office for the second time that day. She hated to be a tattle-tale or seem like she couldn't handle the situation herself, but after Victoria's attitude that morning and the way she had tried to sabotage the meeting for the new issue that afternoon, she had to say something.

"Do you have a minute?" she asked.

"What seems to be the trouble, my dear?" the older man smiled.

"Well . . . um . . . it's just . . . Victoria sort of tried to take over the meeting we had today for our next issue," she finally got out.

"Oh, my . . . What happened, specifically?" he inquired.

Betty took a deep breath and began.

"Bunni and I revealed the main topic for the issue – which was 'affordable, stylish lifestyles' - and then asked for the editors to branch out from there and give ideas. Victoria was the first to volunteer, but she wouldn't give anyone else a chance to speak and her suggestions didn't even make sense for the issue or our marketing target.

"How so?" he wondered.

"She kept throwing things out like spreads on Dolce or Louis Vuitton . . . personal decorators, appetizer recipes for high-society parties, first-class trips to Fiji . . . As much as our readers might like those things, they can't afford any of them. The point was to show them similar things that would fit their budget," Betty explained.

"I see your point. I'll have a chat with Victoria about it," he assured her just as she entered the room, carrying a silver tea tray. "Ah, there you are my love. There are some things we need to discuss. Betty, I'll see you in the morning."

She smiled and nodded, hoping everything would be taken care of without any consequences.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You know I love you, right?" Betty said with a serious tone, caressing Daniel's scruffy jawline as they snuggled in bed the next morning.

Daniel lightly ran his finger along her arm and kissed her shoulder.

"Of course I do . . . What's wrong?" he wondered.

"Nothing . . . just I can't stop thinking about Victoria and her threats. I don't trust her not to pull something else – not just with my job but with us - you know, try to tear us apart," she confessed. "I want you to know that I'd never do anything to ruin what we have."

"Baby, you don't have to worry about that. And I trust you – just like I know you trust me. Besides, I don't think Victoria's as threatening as she thinks she is," he assured her.

"I don't know, Daniel . . . She has plenty of connections and seems to be pretty manipulative – she had to be to get Lindsay in the first place," she pointed out.

"Maybe – but isn't she accusing you of doing the same?" he reasonably countered.

"I guess you're right," she agreed. "But _I'm_ not the one who's causing trouble."

"True. But maybe you're blowing things out of proportion," he observed.

"What?" she shot up, irritated that he would even remotely think that.

"Relax! I – I just think that maybe Victoria's a little insecure, being new to the industry and to the country," he defended. "Give working with each other a chance – even Wilhelmina and I had our moments."

Betty contemplated his words for a moment. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she might be overreacting. There was something about Victoria that always made her defensive and paranoid. It probably stemmed from dating Matt and being the girlfriend that his mother hated – she wasn't used to that. But everyone deserved to have another chance.

"You're right! I need to just focus on doing my best and be as open-minded as possible. You survived and so can I – at least she's only a junior editor and not my equal. No matter how much she tries to take charge, it's still my job – not hers," she tried to think positively.

"Exactly. Lindsay already told you he'd back your decisions. Victoria's only there to throw out ideas – she can't do anything without your approval – you'll be fine," he added. "Now come on – we need to get ready or we'll be late."

Betty giggled as he pulled her out of bed and toward the bathroom.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"It's an hour earlier than what you think," she said.

"Huh?" he frowned, confused.

"I set the alarm to go off earlier to make sure we'd have plenty of time for our morning rituals," she explained with a sly grin, toying with the band on his pajama pants.

Daniel chuckled.

"I don't know whether to yell at you or kiss you," he shook his head in disbelief.

"I do . . ." she replied, pulling his lips toward hers as she guided him to the shower.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you for reading and for the reviews! Here's the next chapter . . . :)_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You know how worried I was about Victoria and you persuaded me to give her a chance?" Betty said, as she and Daniel ate their lunch at a local café.

"Yeah?" he prompted, taking half of her fries.

"Well, I shouldn't have. She's somehow gotten Lindsay to think that her ideas are 'brilliant' and that we need to run with them," she rolled her eyes as she switched the cheese in their sandwiches.

"That's insane! He can't let her get away with this – she'll ruin your magazine. I'm going to go talk to him!" Daniel insisted, throwing his sandwich down and getting up.

"No! Baby, don't," she grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "As much as I love you standing up for me, I think you'll only make it worse."

"Betty, you can't just let her take over! She has no experience - no _right_ –" he argued.

"I know. I know," she agreed. "But what else can I do? I went to Lindsay and he said he'd talk with her. But obviously she managed to spin it in her favor."

Daniel sighed.

"Unless . . . what if I did just do nothing?" Betty considered.

"What? You mean allow her to do whatever she wants? Babe, this is the job you've always dreamed of. I don't want to see it get screwed up by a selfish, conniving bitch like Victoria Hartley. You've worked way too hard for that," Daniel told her.

"Don't worry. I'm going to sit back and watch Victoria screw herself over. Once the issue based on her ideas hits the stands, it'll flop – and there will be no one to blame but her. Lindsay will have Victoria back to picking out china patterns so fast she won't know what hit her!" Betty confidently assured him.

"Betty, you're a genius!" he grinned.

"I think so . . ." she joked, and kissed his cheek. "I'm gonna get us a cookie to celebrate!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two more weeks went by and the issue was ready for print. Betty took one last look at the mock-up and smiled. There was no way Victoria would actually get away with this.

"Hello, Betty," Victoria came into her office. "Taking a final run-through I see? I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking. It's going to be a delightful issue, thanks to my high-society touch, don't you agree?"

"Your touch will definitely have an effect," Betty replied, tongue-in-cheek.

"Why thank you, darling. It's so big of you to give credit where credit is due," Victoria remarked.

Betty had the urge to chew her out right then and there, but managed to hold her tongue.

"Was there something you needed, Victoria?" she asked.

"Nothing in particular, dear. I just thought I'd drop by and congratulate us both on a job well done," Victoria answered and left.

It took everything in her not to scream. She took a deep breath and told herself to focus on the big picture. Victoria wouldn't be gloating for long. She called Chloe in to take the book down to the printer, figuring she might as well give her assistant a little extra responsibility when there was no way she could make things worse. Betty then decided to start brainstorming ideas for the next issue, when her phone beeped with a text from Daniel.

"RU srvivng?" he wondered.

"Tll me smthng good" Betty replied.

"Tht bad huh?" he assumed.

"Yep" she said.

"3 mre wks & we hve our hme – ur a grgeous ntllgnt eic - im gld ur mne 3" Daniel told her.

"Aww . . . u evn mde a grly 3 – thnx babe c u l8r" she wrote just as Lindsay knocked on her door.

"I see you and Victoria are still getting along swimmingly?" he observed.

"Mmm-hmmm!" Betty managed.

"Good. Because if this issue goes well, I'm considering making Victoria co-Creative Director," Lindsay replied.

Betty's eyes couldn't help but widen.

"Umm . . . Victoria's only helped with one issue, wouldn't it be better if we waited 'til she's had a little more experience?" she delicately questioned.

"Yes, well, I discussed it with Victoria and she believes she's ready for the responsibility," he answered, taking a sip of his tea.

"Oh," Betty replied quietly. "Have you let Bunni know?"

"Not yet, my dear. I wanted to inform you first," Lindsay said.

"Thank you . . . I'm sure everything will work out," Betty told him, pasting a smile on her face.

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"He's just letting her take over! Today, she was insisting we do a spread on plastic surgeons of the stars. Pretty soon she'll have _my_ job!" Betty exclaimed as she slammed the door and flopped on the couch beside Daniel.

"Hey! You can't think like that. You will be _fine_ – I won't allow anything different," Daniel vowed as he began to rub her feet.

Betty smiled.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" she said, staring at him with adoration.

"I'll never get tired of it," Daniel stared back, then began to ponder the situation at hand. "There has to be some explanation for this. Lindsay seemed to be making logical decisions until the past few months."

"Until Victoria showed up and started making him think with the wrong organ," Betty scoffed.

"You really think that sex is so powerful that it can make a guy mess up his business life?" he questioned.

"Yes, I do," she maintained.

Daniel gave her a skeptical look.

"Daniel, look at your father and Wilhelmina. He was snowed by her seductive ways and it turned out she was playing him the entire time. It _has_ to be the key to Victoria's manipulation – what else could it be?" Betty said.

"Is there anything else different about Lindsay that you've noticed? Other than this new tea he swears by –" he wondered.

"Oh my god - tea! That's it! Every time I see him he's got a cup of tea or Victoria's pouring him a cup of it," she realized.

"Wait - you think she's drugging him? That's a pretty serious allegation, Betty," Daniel warned her.

"I know, Daniel. I know. But it fits, doesn't it? Lindsay understood how serious Victoria's antics were – he was going to talk to her and fix it. But then she comes into his office with some tea for him and the next day, he's letting her use her ideas for my magazine," Betty said.

"You're right. It can't just be a coincidence. The guy's got it with him all the time," Daniel agreed. "But we need some serious proof before we say anything. I don't want either of us losing our jobs over this."

"Me neither," Betty said.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Betty, the numbers from your last issue are in. I have to say that I am very disappointed in them," Lindsay said as Betty nervously sat in his office.

"Really?" she said, trying to hide her delighted surprise.

"Yes. I'm not sure that your demographic is buying into your concepts. Perhaps it's time to move on," he suggested, taking a sip of tea.

"I totally agree. We're actually going to be working on a 'Be Yourself' issue where –" Betty began.

"No – no. You misunderstood. I don't believe your magazine has brought in the revenue we need. I've talked to Victoria and she's agreed to start a high-society publication of sorts. I'm afraid I'm no longer in need of your services," Lindsay explained.

"A-Are you firing me? But that last issue was done with Victoria's ideas. You insisted that I use them, even though I argued they wouldn't work for the readers buying the magazine. Our issue before that was the highest-selling new publication ever!" Betty protested.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I've made my decision. The best of luck in your future endeavors," he told her, walking her to the door.

"Victoria's drugging you, Lindsay – with tea! You're not yourself!" she insisted.

"Why don't you go home, my dear, and get some rest. You've had a bit of a shock," Lindsay told her, before discreetly calling security.


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you to everyone who's still reading this! Here's the next chapter . . . :)_

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"Then two really big guards dragged me out of the building!" Betty finished telling her story to Daniel.

"I heard. Everyone started asking me about you," he kissed her forehead. "Baby, I'm so sorry. He had absolutely no grounds for firing you! I was gonna go talk to that stupid SOB, but he had already left by the time I was done for the day."

"Don't – please! I don't want you to get fired, too. Plus, I need you to still have an inside connection so you can bribe the camera guy to catch Victoria in the act," she said. "I know she's behind this. Lindsay is a sweet, smart businessman – he's not himself."

"You're right. I just get so pissed when anyone hurts you that I can't see straight," he sighed. "She's not going to get away with this – I promise you. We'll sue if we have to –"

"_Daniel . . ._ Let's just hope we don't have to. I have a bad feeling that Lindsay's in trouble - who knows what's in that tea," Betty said.

"Yeah, but I'll find out. I'll get Peyton to show me some tapes on Monday and we can go from there," he told her. "Meantime, let's go to that movie you've been wanting to see. It'll be a good distraction."

"Can we get popcorn with extra butter _and_ some nachos with jalapenos?" her eyes lit up.

"Whatever you want," Daniel smiled. "I'm even craving one of those mini cakes they have."

"You only like them because they say 'Shag Me' on them," Betty giggled.

"They have 'I Love You' ones, too," Daniel defended.

"Yeah, but as I remember, the last time we went I got you the 'I Love You' one and you stuck me with the 'Shag Me' one," she playfully smacked him.

"And _I_ remember you thinking I was cute, and getting lucky," he smirked.

"Okay – so I'm a sucker for adorable, desperate, publishing instructors," she flirted. "Let's go!"

"Hey – I am _not_ desperate. But you _are _making me wanna stay here," Daniel balked.

"_Oh, no_ – you promised me a movie and my favorite snacks! We're going!" she insisted. "And maybe later you'll have some good luck . . ."

Daniel grinned and led the way.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel walked out of his office, after hours, texting Betty about the successful retrieval of the tape and to meet him at their favorite restaurant when he felt a gun at his back.

"Drop the tape, Daniel," Victoria demanded.

Daniel dropped the tape and she smashed it with her five-inch LeBoutin.

"You weren't about to show Lindsay that footage, were you?" she questioned, still pointing the gun at him and whipping his phone across the room.

"What if I was? What are you plotting, Victoria?" he asked. "You managed to take over Betty's job and drug Lindsay to where he doesn't know what he's doing."

"Why it's simple, darling. I need more security – a better inheritance for Matthew – one that doesn't come from his father. Lindsay will give that to me . . . one way or another . . . And your precious Betty? Well, she's just collateral damage – it's very satisfying if you consider what she did to my son, don't you think?" Victoria replied with an evil smirk.

"Betty didn't do anything! Matt chose to go to Africa on his own and their break-up was mutual," Daniel corrected her. "You never wanted her with him anyway – why are trying to destroy her life?"

"Because when my son hurts, I feel his pain. When you're a parent you'll understand," Victoria excused. "And come to think of it, you were also involved in my son's heartache – keeping Betty from him on several different occasions doing god knows what, wanting Matthew to get his father involved in your business at MODE."

"Betty and I never had a romantic relationship until we moved here. And as for Cal's involvement, I only had Betty ask Matt for a meeting with him. In no way did I intend for it to cause Matt any trouble," Daniel assured her, hoping she would put down her gun soon.

"And why should I believe your story? You didn't like my son either – you punched him out at the United Nations, fighting over Betty?" Victoria retorted, shoving Daniel out of the lobby and into the maintenance closet.

She tied his wrists behind his back with a ragged cloth.

"Now, I'm going to go seal my future," she smiled and held up a pre-nup. "Soon, Dunne Publications will be mine and Betty Suarez won't be the only one unemployed . . ."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty sat at the restaurant and glanced at her watch; Daniel should have been there by now. Maybe he just got tied up with doing evaluations – no, he would've just brought them home with him. She tried calling him, but got no answer. Something was wrong. She grabbed her bag and ran to the office.

On her way in, she saw Victoria toting a gun and a vile of something and ducked around the corner. Unfortunately, she suddenly had the urge to sneeze and couldn't control it.

"Ach-" Betty attempted to muffle it with her coat, but was unsuccessful.

"Well, look who we have here! Betty Suarez off to rescue her millionaire boyfriend – how . . . predictable," Victoria remarked, grabbing her by the arm and shoving her into the elevator.

"What have you done to Daniel?" Betty demanded an answer.

"Let's just say he's all tied up," Victoria smiled. "And don't worry, darling, you'll see your precious Daniel very soon."

As the elevators opened, Victoria pushed her off and guided her with the gun towards the closet.

"Stay there. If you move, I'll shoot," she threatened.

Betty nodded, nervously.

But when Victoria unlocked the door, Daniel kicked her to the floor before she had any chance to react. Her head slammed against the cold, hard linoleum and she was knocked unconscious.

"Betty! Get her gun!" he said as it flew across the floor near her.

Betty immediately picked it up and checked to see if Victoria was still breathing.

Daniel easily freed his wrists from the cloth and ran to her.

"Victoria obviously knows nothing about tying knots," he said. "Are you alright? Did she hurt you?"

"I'm fine. Are you okay? I was so scared she had shot you!" Betty said, placing kisses all over his face in relief.

"I'm okay – just glad you are. When I saw you behind her, my heart stopped. I don't know what I would've done if anything had happened to you," Daniel admitted, kissing her lips.

"Me neither . . ." Betty said then looked over at Victoria. "We should call the police and an ambulance before she has a chance to wake up and retaliate."

Daniel found his phone on the other side of the room and made the calls.

"They're on their way," he said, and shook his head at his phone. "This thing has nine lives."

"They won't be able to hold her for long – the evidence is destroyed," Betty frowned as she noticed the smashed video tape.

Daniel pulled out another one from his jacket pocket.

"No it isn't," he said.

"You had a back-up?" Betty grinned. "_God, I love you!_"

Daniel chuckled as she practically knocked him over with a hug.

"Pretty smart, huh?" he gloated.

"_Very_ smart," she agreed, just as the police showed up to take their statements.

"What's going on here? Is everyone alright?" Lindsay followed behind them.

"Victoria was drugging you in order to get ahold of your company and your money. Betty was telling you the truth – we have the proof right here," Daniel answered. "She tried to destroy it and held me and Betty at gunpoint, but I had an extra copy."

"Oh, my!" Lindsay exclaimed, and noticed Victoria still unconscious on the floor. "I'd like to see that film in the conference room, once you are finished with these officers."

Daniel and Betty nodded.

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"Judging from the footage, I have to say that I am deeply sorry for my behavior the past few months. I have no idea what came over me," Lindsay apologized. "I will certainly be turning this in to the police."

"It's okay, you didn't realize. Victoria is a very manipulative person," Betty assured him.

"She's pulled one over on a lot of people – including my mom," Daniel added. "They used to be best friends until Mom found out that she hit on my father."

"That's quite a story," Lindsay replied. "I'm ashamed to admit that I was so entranced with her beauty and charm that I was blind to her shortcomings. Again, I apologize profusely. And Betty, my dear, you will be reinstated as Editor in Chief of 'Inspire' straightaway."

"Thank you, Lindsay. You won't regret it!" Betty smiled as she and Daniel left.

As soon as they were in the elevator, she squealed.

"We did it! Lindsay's back to normal, I have my job back, and Victoria is out of our lives!" she jumped up and down.

"I told you we'd fix this," Daniel said.

"And I never doubted you," Betty smiled and kissed him.

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"_Daniel, up!_" Betty commanded, knocking his feet off of a box. "I didn't agree to buy that thing so you could sit in front of it while I did all the unpacking."

"But there's actually an _American_ sport on!" he whined.

"Press record on the DVR and come help me!" she begged. "_Please . . ._"

Daniel took one look at her pouty, frustrated face and caved.

"_Fine . . ._" he grumbled, pressing the button on the remote to the fifty-two-inch flat screen and following her into the dining room. "I still don't get why you wouldn't let us hire someone."

"Because it's something we're perfectly capable of doing ourselves," she replied. "Besides, I read in this article online that unpacking is a great way to bond with your partner."

"I can think of _a lot_ better ways to bond than putting away tchotchkes," he said, holding up what he thought was a clay-figured dog – or was it a gorilla? "And wait a sec - we're not even married yet and you already think we have problems?"

"No! _No!_ I just saw the headline on my homepage the other day and was curious. I'm extremely happy with the way we are," she clarified. "Not that you don't annoy me sometimes, but I'm sure it goes both ways."

"Definitely!" he teased.

Her eyes narrowed as she swatted him with a throw pillow that had been put in the wrong box.

"Hey! Stop it! I was kidding!" he chuckled.

"Good," she smiled.

"Don't hit me again, but shouldn't we wait to put all this breakable crap in the china cabinet until the room's painted?" he pointed out.

"You're right. Come on," she grabbed his hand.

"What are we doing?" Daniel wondered.

"Picking out paint samples and getting these rooms done," Betty answered.

"I thought we were hiring a decorator?" he said, confused.

"You really lived a privileged life, didn't you?" she shook her head, amused. "But _I_ am going to show you how doing things ourselves can be fun and rewarding!"

"I think you've been watching too many of those 'DIY' programs," Daniel rolled his eyes, but played along.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You sure you don't wanna hire a decorator?" Daniel asked, gaping at the sloppily painted robin's egg blue walls.

"They're not _that_ bad . . . are they? We just need to repaint the wainscoting where I went over the tape a little and _totally_ repaint the ceiling," Betty attempted to see the bright side.

"Baby, we've got almost ten more rooms to go. We'll be living out of our suitcases for a _year_ at the rate we're going," he exaggerated.

Betty sighed, ready to admit defeat when she gave it a second thought.

"How long did it take us to paint this room?" she asked.

Daniel glanced at his Rolex.

"A couple of hours," he answered.

"Okay . . . After we get the paint to match, it'll take us probably another hour to clean this room up. But the other rooms should only take us a couple hours each if we're really careful, right?" she contemplated.

"Yeah . . ." Daniel said, knowing she was probably going exactly the opposite way that he wanted her to.

"So we could still get about half the rooms done this weekend and the other half the next," Betty smiled, hopefully. "See?"

She was so satisfied with herself that he couldn't break her spirit.

"I see," he smiled. "You've got a little paint on your cheek."

Betty wiped it with her finger.

"Did I get it?" she wondered.

"Here," Daniel offered, deviously smearing paint on her.

"Eeek! You're sooo gonna pay for that!" Betty protested.

"Am I?" Daniel smirked, before Betty took one of the rollers and rolled it down his face. "Get back here!"

Betty darted across the room, giggling.

"You started it!" she accused him.

"Yeah, and now I'm gonna end it!" he vowed, wiping his lips before chasing her around with a half-filled paint can, attacking her from behind.

"Aaah! I can't _believe_ you just did that!" she exclaimed, picking up a paint tray and throwing it at him.

Daniel scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" she demanded between hysterical giggles, kicking her legs.

"Okay . . ." he said, throwing her onto another paint tray then walking away.

Betty tripped him before he escaped, though, causing him to land on top of her.

"Ow!" they both laughed.

Betty smoothed the paint-caked hair off of his forehead.

"Babe?" she said.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"You look ridiculous," she grinned.

"So do you," he said, kissing her nose. "So . . . you still set on the whole painting thing?"

"Didn't I just show you how much fun it can be?" she contended.

"Yeah, but think of how much _more_ fun we could have if someone else did it for us . . ." he argued.

"You're incorrigible," she rolled her eyes.

"You just need some more convincing. I'll win you over after a long, thorough shower," he said, cockily, as he pulled her up.

"We'll see. I think I'm perfectly capable of doing some convincing of my own . . ." Betty smirked, throwing her shirt at him as she sauntered up the curved staircase.


	13. Chapter 13

_Here is the final chapter. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting along the way! Enjoy! :)_

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Betty's dress was an ivory-colored Vera Wang asymmetrical strapless mermaid gown with a full ladder-draped organza skirt and she carried a large round bouquet of multi-colored roses.

Hilda wore a watermelon-colored Oscar de la Renta strapless tea-length gown with ruching at the waist and a peplum ruffle along the skirt and carried a smaller version of her sister's bouquet. Alexis wore the same gown in black and had a corsage that matched Hilda's dress.

As Betty walked toward Daniel, she remembered how hard she had fought to resist him, afraid they wouldn't make it. And here they were, pledging to spend the rest of their lives with no one else.

"Hey," Daniel smiled, taking Betty's hands as they stood along the gorgeous ocean view of Capri amongst their closest family and friends.

"Hey," Betty smiled.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

"It's a little too late, _now_," she joked.

Daniel grinned.

"You look amazing," he brushed her hair out of her eyes as a light breeze blew over them.

"So do you," she kissed his palm.

"We are gathered here today in the presence of God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Betty and Daniel have requested to recite their own personal vows. Betty, would you like to begin?" the priest asked.

Betty took a deep breath and started.

"If I had listened to myself, a year ago, I wouldn't be here today. But I didn't - I listened to my sister, and it was the best advice she's ever given me. She made me realize that I wouldn't be losing a friend, I'd be gaining a lover - and she was right. Daniel, you are still the one I go to when I've got great news or when things get rough. You're still the one who I can laugh or cry with, who doesn't care how crazy I can be. But now, you're so much more than I ever imagined. You're the one whose hand I want to hold, whose lips I want to kiss, the last person I want to talk to at night and the first I want to wake up to in the morning. You're the one who I want to have a family with, and the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. So, I promise to always be your best friend, to always stand beside you through whatever happens, to always love you, and to never take advantage of everything we share together," Betty vowed and slid the platinum band on Daniel's finger.

"Betty, I'm thankful every day that you changed your mind. And I guess I owe Hilda a lot for that," Daniel smiled at her sister.

"A red Ferrari would work," Hilda winked, knowing Daniel's surprise for Betty.

Daniel and Alexis smirked and Betty nudged her.

"Whaaat? I'm just sayin'!" she defended.

Daniel turned his attention back to Betty.

"I never thought I'd love anyone as much as I love you. You're not just the love of my life – you're the best friend I've ever had. You push me to exceed my potential, you believe in me in a way no one else has, you make me laugh, and you pick me up when I'm down. I've never met anyone like you before and I'm so glad I did. It took me four years to realize just how much you mean to me, but I'm grateful you gave me a chance to show you. I promise to always be your best friend, to always stand by your side, to always love you in good times and in bad, and to be the best husband and father to our future children that I can be – oh – and to stop leaving empty milk cartons in the fridge," he joked, placing the platinum diamond band on Betty's finger.

Betty laughed and squeezed his hands.

"By the power vested in me by the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit, and by the jurisdiction of Capri, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said.

Daniel happily kissed his new wife and spontaneously carried her back up the aisle as everyone cheered. They drove to the reception in a red Ferrari California with a JUST MARRIED sign on the back. Random people on the streets stared and cheered for them along the way.

"I can't believe you did this! I feel like a princess or a celebrity," Betty giggled.

"You _are_, Mrs. Meade," Daniel smiled.

"Tell me this is just a rental, right? You didn't actually buy this – I mean, there's no way – we have a new house, and we don't even need a car in the city –" she started to freak out.

Daniel grinned.

"_Daniel!_" she berated him. "You did _not_ just buy a $200,000 car!"

"Technically, no," he answered. "I sold my old one in New York, plus, I had money from a condo in Vermont that I knew I'd never use."

"So this is yours?" Betty tried to let it all sink in.

"No – it's _ours_ – well, this one's on loan. We'll pick up ours when we're back home, but yeah," he clarified.

"Oh my god! This is insane – we could do so much more with this money than drive a car that's worth two years of my salary . . . but, I guess when you count how much we already spend on transportation it's not so bad . . . I love it!" she clapped her hands with glee.

"Good," Daniel chuckled. "Besides, we'll have a use for our garage now."

Betty lightly smacked him then happily rested her head on his shoulder.

"You know you'll have to learn how to drive on the left side of the road, right?" she reminded him.

"Oh, crap!" Daniel's eyes widened.

"It's times like these when I love you even more," she smirked and shook her head.

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After Daniel and Betty returned from their lengthy honeymoon, Lindsay stopped by Betty's office to congratulate them.

"I'd like to give the both of you a belated wedding present of sorts . . . and a token of my gratitude for your awareness of Victoria's misconduct," Lindsay said, handing Betty an envelope. "However, please let there be no misunderstanding that I would bestow this upon you if I did not have the utmost faith in your abilities."

She carefully opened it and squealed, jumping up and down with excitement.

"What? What is it?" Daniel said, the suspense killing him.

"It's an invitation to _The_ Royal Wedding!" she grinned.

"Are you kidding? How is that even possible?" he exclaimed.

"The press is allotted a slight number of invitations. Since Dunne is the largest publishing company in Britain, we are allotted three, along with photographers," Lindsay explained.

"Not to seem ungrateful, but why _us?_" Betty asked.

"Well, Daniel will technically be your guest. However, I believe the both of you together can produce a spectacular spread for your magazine," he replied.

"But we're not even from here. Won't people criticize our take on such an important part in British history?" she wondered.

"Perhaps. However, I believe the fact that you and Daniel are Americans living in the UK will give you an advantage. You will be able to perceive the event from a different perspective without being too subjective either way," Lindsay told them. "Plus, I believe your take will be equally unique due to the fact that you, Betty, are more similar in age to the prince and Ms. Middleton than most of our other EICs."

"Wow . . . this is incredible! Thank you, Lindsay!" Daniel said, shaking his hand.

Lindsay modestly smiled.

"Yes, thank you so much – we won't let you down!" Betty promised, giving her boss an enthusiastic hug.

"You're . . . quite welcome, my dear," Lindsay replied, awkwardly patting her back.

"You'll get used to it," Daniel chuckled, remembering how overwhelming Betty's affection had been to him at first – and he wasn't even as reserved as most citizens in this country.

But it wasn't long before her attitude became infectious. She was just like that – somehow getting every person who met her to better themselves in one way or another. Even Marc, Amanda, and Wilhelmina had become less bitchy by the time Betty had left MODE. He smiled with pride knowing this amazing woman was now his wife.

"Daniel? Hello . . . Are you _still_ dumbstruck?" Betty waved a hand in front of his face after Lindsay left.

"Huh? What?" he jumped.  
"I can't believe you're as excited as I am about this. I mean, you should be used to these things, right?" she assumed.

"Not exactly. I mean, I didn't even get one of those 'Eggvites' to Hartley's annual charity event – and that was in New York," he said.

"I would've thought your father would have been invited to Charles and Diana's wedding, being the head of MEADE," she guessed.

"No, he and some of the editors were in the city, but didn't have inside access. I think they only reserve that for media of their own country," Daniel replied.

"Oh," she remarked. "Then I guess this _is_ really big for you, too."

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. "But the best part of it is that we'll be able to share it with each other."

Betty smiled and slowly put her arms around him.

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"I can't believe we're actually here! _We_ are at William and Kate's wedding!" Betty squealed as Winston dropped them off as close as he could get to the event.

"Betty, calm down. I don't think you were this excited at _our_ wedding," he chuckled.

"Yes I was – you just didn't know it. I drove Hilda _nuts_," she defended. "Besides, this is a _prince,_"

"Well, what does he have that I don't?" he complained. "At least I still have all of my hair – well, most of it, anyway."

Betty rolled her eyes.

"You have a full head of hair, Daniel. And don't worry – you'll always be _my_ little prince," she patronized.

"_Little!_" he protested.

"Daniel, I was kidding! Why are you being like this?" she demanded.

"I'm not 'being' like anything. Go drool over your big, macho, balding prince and I'll just enjoy the atmosphere!" he brooded.

"Oh my god! You were just as excited about this a week ago – drooling over Kate _and_ Pippa. But I make one innocent comment about the Prince and now you're jealous? The man's getting married _today_, Daniel. Not that any of this matters anyway because A. I'm not attracted to him, B. I have a husband whom I'm crazy in love with, and C. he doesn't even know I exist. Now will you please get over your ego-driven moment and take all of this in?" Betty pleaded.

"Sorry. I just got a little worried that you were tired of me already," he admitted, embarrassed.

"Baby, how could you possibly think that? _You_ are the only man I'll ever want. You gave me the fairytale wedding that _I_ wanted and _you_ are the man of my dreams. Don't ever doubt that," she promised, fully kissing his lips in assurance.

"Okay," he smiled.

"Good. Wow, look at all these different hats!" Betty observed, putting hers on. "I hope Braeden brought enough memory cards . . . Do you think I dressed okay? Is my hat too plain?"

Daniel adjusted it for her.

"Betty, _nothing_ you've ever worn has been too plain," he snickered.

"Ha. Ha," she lightly smacked him.

"You look beautiful – as always," he rubbed her arms. "You even picked out some Jimmy Choos, which seems to be the trend – except – there's one woman in Leboutins. Hey - that's Victoria Beckham. I'm gonna go say 'Hi'. Come with me."

Betty nervously followed. Now that she ran her own magazine, she was getting more used to dealing with celebrities. But she still couldn't shake being a little bit apprehensive.

"Daniel Meade. What brings you here?" Victoria smiled.

"My wife has the honor of covering the wedding for her magazine. I'd like you to meet Betty Suarez-Meade, EIC of Inspire," Daniel replied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Beckham. Congratulations on your baby," Betty said.

"Thank you. And call me Victoria . . . You look somewhat familiar, have we met before?" Victoria wondered.

"I used to work for Daniel at MODE," Betty answered.

She squinted her eyes.

"Weren't you the girl who interrupted Wilhelmina Slater's wedding to Bradford Meade?" she asked.

Betty smiled, sheepishly.

"That would be me," she admitted.

"_Brava._ The woman is a gold-digging bitch who can't bear to have the spotlight stolen from her," Victoria commended. "You look fabulous, by the way. Is that Dolce?"

Betty briefly looked down at her mid-length light-teal fitted dress with a wrap that covered her shoulders.

"Yes, thank you! You look amazing, and I love your hat!" Betty replied.

Victoria modestly smiled.

"Oh! David's calling me," she noticed from behind them. "Betty, Daniel, lovely seeing you. Give Willie my best!"

"Wow . . ." Betty laughed.

"Yeah," Daniel agreed and took her hand. "Come on – we don't want to be late."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That was _so beautiful!_ I mean, her dress, the Cartier tiara borrowed from the Queen - she really was like a modern-day Cinderella . . . traveling in her cars and a carriage and walking down that long aisle in that enormous church . . . kissing her prince from the balcony, with people from all over the world cheering them on . . ." Betty swooned as they walked back from the celebration to the car.

"Yeah, it was pretty romantic," Daniel agreed. "But those kisses were weak."

"Daniel, they're British. PDAs are practically non-existent for them, so two kisses was a lot – even if they were tiny pecks," she argued.

"I guess. But not wearing a ring? I know he's a prince so everyone knows who he is, but it's the principle of it, you know? Rings are symbols of your love for each other – not just a piece of jewelry or to say you're taken," he said.

"You're right. I feel the same way, but not all men in America choose to wear them either . . . I don't know. I'm just glad you chose to," she fingered his platinum band.

"So, now that you've seen the Royal Wedding, is there anything you would've changed about ours?" he wondered.

"Except for the thirty million-dollar budget they had, I'd say ours was pretty perfect," Betty reflected. "I thought it was very elegant and definitely royal, but Kate's bouquet was more suited for one of the flower girls and you know my opinion about no color. Plus, I definitely wouldn't have wanted the whole world judging my every move. I mean, take the normal butterflies you have before and during a wedding and multiple them by a million."

"Yeah," he laughed. "You think they'll last?"

"I think so. They've known each other for ten years, were together for eight – that's more than most people do before they're married. And she handles herself really well in the spotlight. Plus, Kate's older than Diana was when she married Charles. And she and William seem to truly love each other – like we do," Betty smiled.

"Exactly," he agreed.

"There were so many different traditions than in America. Like the women having to cover their shoulders in the church . . . not kissing each other after being pronounced husband and wife . . . the little flower girls following her – or just the hats. I can't wait to get home and start writing on this! I hope Braeden got some good shots – did you see Harry grin and tell William that Kate was coming down the aisle and William refused to turn around until she got to him – so adorable –" Betty went on.

Daniel put a finger to her lips.

"_You're_ adorable," he grinned and pressed his lips to hers. "I think we should go to our own reception, since we're all dressed up and weren't invited to the others. There are a couple of parties I heard were going on close by – Adele is throwing one and I got us an invite."

"_Shut! Up!_" Betty playfully shoved him. "I know Marc and I got her to perform for my YETI project which turned into your wedding, but you managed to get an invite to a party she's hosting?"

Daniel nodded proudly.

"I knew there was a reason I loved you," she flirted, throwing her arms around him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh my god! Daniel, get in here!" Betty yelled from the family room, as the news of Osama bin Laden's death interrupted the show they had been watching.

"What? Baby, what's wrong – are you hurt?" he panicked, rushing out of the bathroom, practically tripping over his half-pulled-up pants.

"Look!" she pointed to the screen.

"Oh god. It's finally over," he said, slowly sitting beside her.

She handed him the hand-sanitizer off the end table.

"Yeah, well at least the biggest terrorist is gone. I wish the entire war was over," she sighed.

"Me, too. Where were you . . . when it happened?" Daniel asked.

"I was on a senior fieldtrip to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island - we were doing reports on immigration for History. We were on one of those ferries, when we saw the planes coming. It was the most horrifying thing I'd ever seen in my life," she recalled, blinking back tears. "Where were you?"

"I was outside of the Starbucks near MEADE, about to get into the town car. I was supposed to be taking a prop over to the UN for Dad. HUDSON was having a photo shoot there and the Features editor running it had forgotten it - Alex was on a business trip at the time. I was home from partying with Becks in Long Beach. Dad told me to not to make any pit stops, that they needed it immediately, but I didn't listen. And for once, he was glad I didn't," Daniel remembered.

"I'm glad you didn't, either," she shook her head. "Can you imagine what would have happened if either of us had been caught in it? We never would have met . . . might not even be alive . . . To think of all of those victims and their families – it's terrible," Betty softly cried.

Daniel pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head.

"It doesn't change what happened, doesn't bring their loved ones back, but at least they have _some_ relief knowing that the evil bastard's finally dead. That's _some_ justice," he said.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"And I'm so grateful to have you – I can't imagine what my life would have been like if you weren't in it. I love you so much," he told her.

"I love you, too, baby – more than anything," she confessed. "Promise me we'll never take each other for granted?"

"Promise. We're lucky to have each other and I don't want to waste another minute of our lives together," he said, earnestly parting her lips with his own.

As they broke, he pulled her off the couch and towards the foyer.

"Where are we going?" she asked, puzzled.

"Out. We're celebrating!" Daniel announced, gently shoving her out the door and down the steps.

"Anything specific?" Betty inquired.

"The victory over terrorism . . . us . . . life in general . . ." he clarified, raising his other hand.

"You're on!" she high-fived him. "You know, I think I'm going to add a piece to the wedding issue about this. About celebrating love instead of hate and how one tiny decision in your life can affect the rest of it, using 9-11 and our stories as examples."

"Great idea. It really makes you think, doesn't it?" Daniel agreed as they walked down the streets of London.

"Yeah . . . Like what if I hadn't given us a chance when you came here? What if I had left you at that café and we never spoke again?" she contemplated.

"Okay, a little analysis is good, but l think we should just be grateful that you came to your senses," he teased.

"_I_ came to my senses?" she repeated, irritated.

"Yeah . . ." he grinned, boyishly.

"Okay, for that, you're buying me the most expensive thing on the menu," she playfully demanded.

"No problem, babe – a five-star restaurant won't let us in, so pick _whatever you want . . ._" Daniel smirked.

"Well, maybe I'll force you to take me shopping at Harrods first?" she smiled, deviously, walking ahead of him in that direction.

Daniel caught up with her, attacking her from behind.

"Come here, you!" he demanded as he spun her around.

"What?" she giggled, feigning innocence.

As he looked into her beautiful brown eyes under the dim street lights, he didn't care anymore.

"Nothing," he whispered, kissing her for no reason, aside from a spontaneous urge.

Life for both of them, at that moment, couldn't be any more perfect.


End file.
